


The Highs and Lows of Parenting Feat. Bruce Wayne

by vivid_vortex



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU, DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Batdad, Bruce Wayne is Batman, Bruce Wayne is a Good Bro, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Dick Grayson Feels, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson is Robin, Family Drama, Fluff and Humor, Hurt Dick Grayson, Hurt Jason Todd, Influenza, Jason Todd Deserves Better, Jason Todd Feels, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd is Robin, Parent-Child Relationship, Protective Bruce Wayne, Sick Character, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Robin, Young Dick Grayson, batfam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2020-10-19 16:28:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 33,889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20660231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivid_vortex/pseuds/vivid_vortex
Summary: Parenting a group of orphans wouldn't be as hard as it is if Bruce wasn't an orphan himself. When faced with a difficult situation, will Batman save the day, or will Bruce Wayne save his family?





	1. First Flights

Bruce really should have thought this through.

It’s not that he didn’t like the kid, hell, he’d trade anything for him. It’s just that parenting isn’t his strong suit. That made sense, considering that he too, was an orphan. He had no idea how Alfred did it, raising him all those years. This was different though, Dick was different.

Dick wasn’t a quiet, introverted kind of kid. He was this energetic ball of constant sunshine and rainbows. Bruce thought that the boy would be the death of him. It’s only been a few months and Dick has nearly caused him to go into cardiac arrest four times.

After their encounter with Zucco, Dick seemed to come more and more alive, which was adorable and heartwarming, but also hard for Bruce to manage. Even with intense training, the boy almost never stopped talking, like he was hopped up on energy drinks.

Bruce was enjoying his solitude in the training room, patting away the sweat beading on his forehead with a hand towel. He planned to take Dick on patrol tonight, show him the city, maybe even how to use the grapple Bruce had designed for him.

Speak of the devil, Dick came rushing into the training room, skidding to a stop. It was obvious that he had just come from school, judging from the fact that he still had his backpack on.

“Hey B! Can I join you?”

“Do you have homework?”

“Nope.” The boy popped the ‘p’ and rocked on his heels, “I’m as free as a bird tonight.”

“Go get changed then, I’ll wait.”

Before he even finished his sentence, Dick ran out of the room so quickly that Bruce swore he heard a _whoosh_ follow him. It took him less than five minutes to return, dressed in a tank top and some shorts, his hair a mess and a smile on his face.

“Ready?” Bruce stretched out quickly, walking with Dick to stand on the mats in the room.

“The real question is, are you ready?”

Bruce chuckled, walking further to stand in front of him. Dick decided to go for the first hit, charging up to him and moving his fist to throw a punch. Bruce dodged out of the way, watching Dick huff in frustration from missing his target. The boy jumped up and successfully kicked him in the chest, causing Bruce to stumble back.

“Score 1 to Robin!” Dick landed in a crouch, bouncing to his feet.

“Don’t get too cocky.” Bruce warned, and as Dick tried to land a second hit, he caught him mid-air, and tossed him away gently.

“I’m not gonna get any better if you don’t fight back.” The boy recovered in a second, leaping over Bruce and landing a punch or two on his back, “Another point for me.”

The fight continued, with the two of them going back and forth until Bruce successfully pinned Dick down on one of the mats. The kid hopped to his feet after being release and grumbled something.

“Don’t be disappointed, you’re getting better. In fact, I have a surprise for you.”

Dick looked up, his blue eyes shining under a black mop of hair.

“A haircut.”

The glint in his eyes disappeared as he chuckled softly, “Are you serious?”

“No. You’re going on patrol with me tonight, as Robin.”

Dick looked up at him in disbelief as he registered what Bruce just said, taking a second before he hugged Bruce tighter than he’s ever hugged him before.

“Thank you!”

Bruce chuckled before wrapping his arms around the boy, “Don’t thank me, I didn’t do anything, you’ve proven to me that you’re ready.”

“I won’t let you down.” Dick pulled away, practically beaming now. “I promise.”

“I know you won’t.” Bruce glanced up at the clock on the wall, “We should get cleaned up, it’s almost time for dinner.”

Dick nodded, walking with him out of the training room. Once they reached Dick’s room, Bruce crouched down and swept the hair from the boy’s face.

“Good work in the training room. I bet not too many kids your age can say they put up a fight against Batman.”

“Thanks B, I would say that you did good too, but I’m sure you know that already.”

“A compliment's a compliment, chum. Now go get cleaned up.”

Dick nodded before walking into his room without another word.

Bruce sighed, standing up and walking off to his own room. It felt good to see how Dick lit up the world when he smiled, it made him feel better when he made the kid smile in the first place. However, taking him on patrol meant that he probably wouldn’t get the silence he was so used to tonight.

It was a Friday night, so that meant Bruce didn’t have to worry about getting Dick back home at a reasonable time. After taking a quick shower, he got dressed in a white button up and black slacks, adjusting the watch on his wrist before walking out and downstairs.

Dick was sitting at the dining table, swinging his legs in the air. His hair was damp, combed away from his tanned face, and he was wearing a navy-blue sweater and dark jeans with black socks. Once he saw Bruce, he smiled softly.

“Hey B. I saved a seat for you.” Dick chuckled.

“How thoughtful of you.”

Bruce sat next to across from Dick, and they quietly spoke for a few minutes before Alfred came, setting down dinner and two plates.

“Thank you, Alfred.” The two said at the same time before serving themselves.

“Honestly, I don’t know what we would do without you, Alf.”

“Good to know, Master Dick.”

Alfred knew that Dick was going on patrol, in fact, he was the one Bruce went to for a second opinion. While he was hesitant about letting the child out on the streets of Gotham, with a little explaining from Bruce, he seemed to be on board with the decision.

After the two finished dinner, they headed down to the cave. Dick slid down the handrail of the stairs and hopped to the center of the cave.

“Am I gonna get to drive the Bat-mobile? Can I get my own smoke-bombs so I can just magically disappear? Oh! Oh! Will I get those voice disguise things so I can sound like you?!”

“No, to all of those.”

“Will you think about it?”

“No.”

“It’ll happen one day.”

Bruce shook his head and sighed, walking over to get the new Robin suit he had designed with Alfred. Sure, it was almost an eyesore with how bright the colors were, but it suited Dick, not the eyesore part, but the bright colors.

As soon as Dick saw the suit, he couldn’t stand still, swinging his arms.

“Is that it? That looks so cool!”

Bruce handed it to him.

“It’s all yours, go put it on.”

Dick nodded, taking the suit in a messy heap and running off. Alfred came down and stood beside Bruce.

“He’s never going to get out of that thing, is he?”

“You’re going to have to drag him home, Master Bruce.” Alfred smiled slightly.

It took a full thirty minutes for Dick to put on his new costume, and he was practically doing somersaults when he came back. Bruce had changed into his own bat-suit while Dick was gone, so they were only waiting on him.

“This is so cool!” Dick twirled around, moving the cape around with his hand.

“You’ve already worn a suit before.”

“But this is my first official one! I love it!”

Alfred straightened out Dick’s cape, dusted off his shoulders, brushed his hair away from his face and turned him to the bat-mobile, “Try not to drive Master Bruce completely insane.”

Dick nodded, waving goodbye at Alfred before sprinting to the Bat-mobile, his yellow cape trailing behind him. Bruce sighed, rubbing his temple.

“This is going to be a long night. Alfred, you’re on watch.”

The whole ride to the city was full of Dick rambling and Bruce’s one-word answers. Once they got to a decent hiding spot for the bat-mobile, Robin launched himself out of car and onto the pavement. Batman stepped outside calmly.

“What’s first, Batman?”

“I’ll teach you how to use your gear properly.”

“Okay!”

The two climbed up fire escapes until they got to the rooftop of the building. Dick put a foot up on the ledge and gazed around.

“Wow, I can see everything from here.”

“That’s the point.” Batman walked up to stand next to Robin, “We’re going to take this slow.” He handed the boy a grappling gun of his own. Dick looked up at him and nodded.

“I need you to listen very carefully. You need something to grapple to, you want to shoot at the most stable parts of the wall, or a building. You have a few lines, so if one breaks you won’t fall. Robin, when you jump, you have to swing, no flailing around.”

Dick nodded, taking all the information in and keeping it in mind as he looked at the gun. It was light in his hands and wasn’t as big as Bruce’s. He ran his thumb over the ‘R’ emblem on the gun that matched the one on his suit.

“- did you get all of that?”

He looked up to Bruce and gave him another nod.

“We’ll try it out. This time, aim high, just in case. I’ll be there to catch you if you fall.”

Robin took a deep breath, aiming the grappling gun up to a taller building’s concrete frame.

“I see where you’re going. Get to the window ledge if you can.”

“Okay B. I got this.” He put his other foot up onto the ledge, adjusting his aim before pulling the trigger. The hook shot out instantly and buried itself into the building.

“Good, now swing, and use your feet to stop yourself from hitting the building.”

Dick nodded, taking a step off and letting gravity drag him down. He was ready to hold himself up, he was used to that thanks to his acrobatic background. Letting himself glance down, he watched all the cars from above before looking back up. Just before he reached the building, he bent his legs and got ready for impact.

It didn’t hurt as much as he thought he would when he landed on the side of the building, now all he had to do was climb up. Walking up the building was weird as first, but as time went on, it got easier and easier.

When he reached the top of the building (which was a lot more than what Bruce told him to do, but standing on the window ledge didn’t feel safe to him), looked back and smiled, he had done as instructed, and he didn’t fall to his death.

Batman climbed up a lot faster than he did, but Dick knew it was experience and the fact Bruce was a full-grown man, while he was still a kid.

“You climbed higher than I told you to.”

Dick shrunk back, ready to get scolded by the Dark Knight himself, “I’m…sorry?”

“I’m impressed. However, next time, listen to my instructions.”

Dick smiled slightly, walking over and standing beside Batman, close enough to hide himself in this black cape that shielded him from the wind.

* * *

They spent the next few hours touring the city, scouting out short-cuts and stopping a robber or two. Dick was getting pretty good at grappling around, following Bruce around Gotham and zipping through the skies like a bird. Bruce had noticed that the boy was starting to tire out though, and since it was his first night, and there wasn’t much happening, he decided that he and Dick could go home. He signaled the bat-mobile to drive to their location before turning towards Robin.

“What now? Do I get to meet Superman?” The kid glanced up to him, rubbing the side of his face sleepily.

“We’re going home.”

“What? But the night’s just starting.” Dick gave a slight pout, crossing his arms.

“You’re tired.”

“Am not-“ He was going to say more before a long yawn interrupted him.

“You just proved my point.”

As if on cue, the bat-mobile rolled up to them. Dick frowned and sighed, dragging himself to the car and getting in. Bruce smirked triumphantly before getting in the driver’s side.

Dick was surprisingly quiet the whole car ride, but he was still awake, just staring out of the window. When they got to the cave, he took longer to get out than Bruce would’ve guessed. Alfred was waiting for them, eyeing the boy and raising an eyebrow in question.

“How was it, Master Dick.”

“It was fun.” He answered in a drowsy mumble, taking off his mask and cape.

Bruce bit back a chuckle as he took off his own cowl and cape, leaving to go take off the rest of his suit. After he returned, he found Dick sitting in the chair by the computer, his head on the desk.

“Are you still awake?”

“Mhm.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Bruce picked up the boy in one swoop. Dick had changed back into his sweater and jeans, and his hair had gone back to its normal messy state. He carried the boy to his room, setting him down on the bed.

“Get your pajamas on, I’ll go grab something to read.”

He waited for Dick to give him a tired nod before leaving to grab a book. He frowned at the selection, not knowing what to pick. He settled on _Robin Hood_, heading back up to Dick’s room.

“Hey Chum.” He smiled, seeing that the kid was still awake.

Dick waved at him, slipping under his blankets and laying down. Bruce pulled up a chair and sat beside the bed, crossing his legs before starting to read aloud.

It took only a few pages for Dick to fall asleep. Bruce looked up, brushing the boy’s hair back before pulling up the blankets to fully cover his body.

“Goodnight Dick.” He whispered as he turned to leave.

On the outside, Bruce looked the same, he looked calm and collected, but on the inside, he was celebrating. Sure, Dick would be a little more drowsy than usual tomorrow, he’d get used to the weird sleep schedule soon, but at least now Bruce had found something to make use of Dick’s abundant energy.

He considered it a win. Not only did he find a way to get his young ward to exert all his energy, he’d be taking it out in a good (yet questionable) way. In the end, tonight was a good night, and one Bruce wouldn’t forget in a long time.

Maybe this parenting thing wasn’t as complicated as he thought.


	2. Throwing Punches

Bruce was quietly enjoying a warm cup of tea in his office, glancing outside the window. Winter had started to set in, but it had yet to snow yet. Surprisingly, Bruce wasn’t very busy today, so he finally had a second to take a breath and savor the silence around him.

Unfortunately, the quiet didn’t last long. The door swung open slowly, revealing Dick. He stood in his school uniform, staring at the ground.

“Dick, is there something wrong?”

“Got in a fight today.”

Bruce got out of his chair, walking over and crouching in front of the boy. Dick raised his head, letting him take a look at the bruises forming around his eye. His lip was cut, and his nose had dried blood scabbing up at his nostrils, leaving a slight red stain under..

“What happened?” Bruce asked, speaking as softly as he could.

“Some boys were pickin’ on this girl, trying to reach under her skirt and pull it down. I-I had to stop them, so while she ran away, I took the beating for her.”

“You couldn’t get a teacher?”

“I tried, she didn’t care, B. I told her what was happening, she said, “Boys will be boys.” and laughed. She laughed.”

Bruce’s heart dropped, he looked at Dick and brushed the hair gently away from his face. The boy was only in 6th grade, and he was already dealing with situations like this.

“Did the girl get away safely?”

“Y-yeah. I took a few punches, didn’t want them to know that I’m strong.” Dick chuckled, “I didn’t hit too hard, promise.”

With a heavy sigh, Bruce stood up, “You did the right thing. Go get cleaned up, I have a call to make.”

Dick hugged him before walking off to his room, leaving the space quiet once again.

Bruce glanced at the phone in his office, walking over and punching in the school’s number.

* * *

After a very long conversation on the phone, the school had said that they would review the tapes and punish the boys that had taken part in what had happened. The teacher would also be punished, and though Bruce thought that the woman should be fired on the spot, he was glad he was getting at least something.

He must’ve been in his office for a long time, because Alfred was the one to come and fetch him for dinner. Dick had changed into casual clothing, his tangled hair hiding some of his face. The boy looked distraught, and he was working on what Bruce assumed was his math homework.

“Master Dick, it is not very polite to work on homework at the dinner table.”

“I’m sorry, Alf.” He took the papers and pencils and moved them to the side, putting his elbow on the table instead and leaning on it.

Bruce sat across from him, glancing up at the boy every now and then. Dick stayed completely silent throughout dinner, which was completely rare for him.

He honestly didn’t know what to do at this point. He had called the school, listened to what had happened and tried his best to comfort him.

Bruce huffed quietly in defeat after Dick had packed up his homework and left. Alfred gave him a subtle glare as he walked over.

“Master Dick seems to be upset.”

“I tried talking to him, it could be because he’s tired, or stress from school.”

“I don’t mean to offend you, Master Bruce, but I thought your detective skills were better than that. From what I know, I think the boys Master Dick fought with today said something that he did not need to hear.”

Bruce took a second to think about it. If the kids had made fun of him, wouldn’t Dick tell him? He had to at least give it a try, seeing the boy so quiet and distant felt wrong to him. It wasn’t the boy he knew.

“I’ll go see how he’s doing.”

“Remember, Master Bruce, you’re going to speak with the boy, not interrogate him.”

“I know, Alfred. Thank you.”

He left the room, walking up the stairs and turning into the hallway that led to Dick’s room. Bruce stood in front of the door for a second, knocking.

“Hey, chum?”

“Yeah, B?”

“Can I come in?”

There was a pause, and Bruce heard some shuffling and footsteps before he heard Dick’s voice again.

“Come in.”

He opened the door. Dick was sitting on his bed, books strewn across the bed next to him. He had put on a sweater and mismatched socks since the last time he saw him.

“Are you cold?” Bruce asked, walking over and pulling a chair over from Dick’s desk so he could sit down beside the bed.

“A little. It’s fine.”

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened at school.”

Dick glanced up at him, shifting around on the bed, kicking a few books away in the process. He looked uneasy, and that didn’t soothe Bruce’s nerves one bit.

“Did you forget to tell me something?”

“No. I promise. ‘Told you everything.”

“You’re lying.” Bruce took a breath, maintaining a calm tone, “Dick, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

Dick was silent for a moment, taking in what Bruce had just said and really thinking about it. He slouched, looking outside his window to avoid looking Bruce in the eyes.

“When the kids were trying to punch me, they were saying all these things. Made fun of my parents, told me that you just wanted good press… stuff like that.”

Bruce frowned, moving closer as he put a hand on Dick’s shoulder, “Chum, you know-“

Before he got to finish his sentence, Dick cut him off, turning to face him once again. This time though, there were tears in his eyes, and his lip trembled subtly, but just enough for Bruce to notice.

“I know. ‘Don’t let it get to you, Dick. It doesn’t mean anything, Dick.’ I tried not to listen to them, B, I really did. But it hurt so much.”

Instead of talking back, Bruce just let him vent. Dick spilled completely, but the tears never left his eyes. By the time Dick was at a loss for words, Bruce had moved to sit with him on the bed.

“Why don’t we call in sick tomorrow.” Bruce ran a hand through the boy’s hair, pulling him closer.

“Okay. I’d like that.” Dick mumbled, sighing as he leaned on him. It was pretty cute how sometimes; the kid would talk like a grown up. For his age, Dick was already basically mature, but his words mixed with his higher pitched voice was quite humorous.

They sat like that for at least half an hour. Bruce spoke about what they’d do on their day off, and what they could do on the weekend. Dick seemed to feel better the more and more they spoke, even smiling when Bruce made a (quite terrible) pun.

“We’re going on patrol tonight, right?” Dick asked at one point.

“Yes, but you can stay in if you’d like.”

“No, no, I wanna go.”

“You better finish your homework then.”

“Do you even use that much math when you grow up?”

“Yes, every day, now get to work.”

Dick grumbled stubbornly as Bruce messed up his hair and left the room, leaving the door open by a crack.

* * *

As soon as Bruce went to open Dick’s door, the boy came running out of the room, speeding past him.

“Patrol time! Whoo!” The boy hollered as he slid down the handrail.

Alfred stared up at Bruce from the bottom of the staircase, “I see that Master Dick has returned to his usual self.”

“Yes, he has.” Bruce walked down the stairs and chuckled quietly.

“Good luck, sir.”

“Thank you, Alfred, I’ll need it.”

He headed down to the Bat-cave, where Dick was already waiting, almost suited up already. The only parts Dick was missing was his utility belt and mask. Bruce walked and grabbed his own suit, getting dressed.

In the end, he had to help Dick slick his hair back while he applied his own domino mask. After that, they were finally ready to go.

As soon as they stepped foot out of the bat-mobile, they caught wind of a robbery currently happening downtown. Batman and Robin swung their way over and scouted out the area.

Of course, it was Dick’s idea to split into two, and of course, Dick ran off before Bruce could protest.

It was very common for Robin to test his own limits, even if it put him in danger.

Bruce snuck in the building, hiding in the shadows as he listened into 5 of the goons speak to each other.

“We got this in the bag!”

“Shut up! You don’t know if the Bat-guy’s watching with his little freak.”

“Dude, you think Batman’s gonna come? Doesn’t he only have a thing for the Joker?”

“Nah, he goes after jay-walkers, I’m sure.”

The group of thugs laughed as they shoved money into their duffel bags. Just as Batman went to swoop in, Robin made his entrance known by swinging down and snatching a duffel bag himself.

“You’re not gonna share?” Robin asked, tossing the bag out of their reach.

Four of the goons pulled out handguns, running off to chase after the eleven-year-old. Batman grumbled something before he sprung into action, grabbing one of the men by the arm and twisting it in a very painful, yet not too damaging pose.

“It’s Bat-dude! Run!”

Robin chuckled, leaping from above as he used his grappling gun to seize the remaining bags from the criminals.

“It’s Batman! And Robin! At least get the names right!” He taunted as he watched Batman successfully capture and zip-tie them.

Once all four of the men were apprehended, Dick leaped back down on the floor, straightening his cape as he waited for Batman to finish contacting Commissioner Gordon.

“Where’d Frank go?”

Dick spun around to look at the criminals. One thing he noticed was that there was one thug missing. Scanning around, he saw a dark figure moving towards Bruce and-

“Watch out B!”

Batman watched as Robin jumped in front of a bullet. After seeing him fall, he chased after the burly man, who tried to make his quick escape.

It took less than a minute to catch the man. After securing him to a post, he rushed back over to Robin, who was struggling to get up.

“Are you hurt?”

Robin looked up, turning to show Batman his side. The bullet had scraped right under his ribs and left only a graze. Dick shook his head.

“I’m okay.”

“We’re going.”

Batman swooped up the kid in his arms before walking out of the building and calling the Bat-mobile.

“I can walk, B.”

“I know.”

Once the Bat-mobile arrived, Bruce lowered Dick in the passenger seat as if he was precious cargo. The car ride went by fast, especially because Bruce knew how to avoid the traffic in Gotham.

Dick only got a stern-talking-to while Bruce cleaned the graze. He was honestly just glad he wouldn’t have to hear the iconic ‘I’m disappointed in you..’ Batman speech.

Once he was out of his suit, Alfred had told him there were cookies in the kitchen, and that he could only have one tonight. So, of course, he rushed to the kitchen as soon as he was cleared and went to take one from the platter.

Before he could do so, a hand reached over his and picked up the one he was aiming for. He looked up and saw Bruce.

“You shouldn’t eat sugar before bed.”

“Alfred said I could.”

Bruce sighed, handing to him before grabbing his own.

“Alright, but don’t come to me when you can’t sleep.”

“It’s only one cookie.” Dick took a bite out of the sweet, “I’ll be fine.”

“Whatever you say, Robin.” Bruce ruffled his hair.

“I just brushed my hair!”

“Now you’ll have to brush it again. It’s late, get to bed.”

“Alright, alright.” Dick flattened his hair with one hand before he hugged Bruce, “Goodnight B.”

“Night chum.”

Bruce watched as Dick basically skipped out of the room, and in his mind, he went though all that had happened today. Tomorrow, he had only one meeting to go to, and then, he was free for the day.

He wanted to see if Dick was any good at ice-skating.


	3. Mistakes

Jason was a lot more difficult for Bruce to understand than Dick.

First off, he was already in his teens by the time Bruce had taken him in, and he came from a completely different background. Unlike Dick, Jason didn’t really see the best in people, he didn’t trust a lot of people either; and though he could be cynical at times, Jason was an eager learner.

He’d donned his first Robin suit a whole year ago, fighting the crime of Gotham at Batman’s side. Bruce had to admit, he was a good fighter, even if he took it too far sometimes.

Summer in Gotham wasn’t the best. The hot and humid nights did not make suiting up and battling crime any easier. As Jason stuck on his mask and equipped the last parts of his suit, he glanced at Bruce, who was pulling on his cowl.

“One day, they’ll make A/Cs so small, they can fit in these stupid suits.”

“I bet you’re right, Jason. But today’s not that day.”

Jason groaned and looked over, his mask was fully adhered now and his suit completely on. He walked over, cracking his knuckles.

“Can’t wait to get this over with.” He groaned, letting his head roll back in emphasis.

“You can stay home if you’d like.”

“No, no., I’m going.”

Bruce smirked, glancing at him through the cowl before turning to the computer. Nothing showed up on the radar, to his disappointment. With a sigh, he turned to the Bat-mobile, gesturing Jason to follow as he walked over to the car. He knew Alfred would come soon and take watch duty, so he didn’t have to worry about calling him down.

Jason, without a word, moved to the passenger side of the Bat-mobile and hopped in, crossing his legs up on the dash after he had shut the door. Batman gave him a glare, causing him to set his feet back down before the Bat-mobile started up.

Jason hummed the entire drive, looking out the window as the streetlights and buildings passed. Once the Bat-mobile was parked, the two got out and scanned around the alley they were standing in. There was a dumpster to their left, trash overflowing onto the pavement.

“Ew.” Robin kicked an empty beer can away from his feet, “People are gross.”

Batman sighed and shook his head, moving to start climbing the building next to him. Jason grimaced before quickly taking the scattered trash and tossing it back into the dumpster before following.

“Hey! Wait up!” Jason called out, running up the fire escape and scaling the building from there.

Batman looked down from the rooftop, silently waiting for Robin as he gazed out into the city. He tried to listen for anything that seemed significant but heard nothing. Jason sat on the ledge Bruce was standing on, his black cape shielding the teenager.

“I don’t think anything’s gonna happen tonight. It’s too hot. I’m sure Joker is sweating all his makeup off.” Robin chuckled to himself.

“You never know what to expect, Robin. We must be ready for anything.”

“I guess.” He kicked his feet in the air, sighing, “But can we be ready for anything while sitting in some A/C?”

“Hmph.”

“I’m gonna take that as a no.”

Suddenly, a big **_boom _**echoed from behind them. Batman turned around while Robin twisted where he sat before springing to his feet. There was a scorching fire that had erupted from a tall apartment building, a good chunk of the structure now blown to smaller pieces that had started to fall off.

“Robin-“

“On it.” Jason was already sprinting towards the edge of the roof, leaping off and swinging away using his grappling gun. Batman followed, but instead of heading into the fire, he searched around the base of the structure, trying to find any cause for the explosion.

“Robin, update status.”

“I could really do with that suit A/C I was talking about earlier. There’s people in here, I’m trying to get them out.”

“Hurry up. The civilians are your priority.”

“Working on it.”

Once Batman got to the base of the building, he caught sight of movement. There were civilians fleeing the area, but this figure was running away. As he chased the person, he found white, red and green smiley faces spray-painted all over the walls in the entrances of the alleys.

“Joker.”

He activated his comms, “Robin, what’s the situation.”

“There.” A cough, “There isn’t anyone left inside. Anyone alive anyway. Need to get out, smoke’s everywhere.”

“Can you find a way out?”

“Mhm. Getting out now.” Jason muttered hoarsely, followed by a few coughs.

“If you get stuck, tell me and stay low to the ground.:”

“Gotcha. Where’re you.”

“I found traces of the Joker, following now.”

“’kay. Robin out.”

Batman sighed, shaking his head as he continued to follow the trail the figure left behind. The spray-painted tags continued, leading away from the burning building and to an old warehouse, which had to be on the list of the most cliché villain hideouts ever.

Keeping his guard up, Batman slipped inside. _Dream a Little Dream of Me_ by Doris Day was playing from the speakers sitting in the center, which was lit up by a singular light.

He would’ve kept walking towards the light if he hadn’t heard footsteps behind him. He stayed still until he heard the sound of a stick or rod swinging at his head, causing him to duck down. When he glanced up, it turned out that the object was a metal pole being swung by a man in a purple pinstripe jacket.

“Joker.” Batman moved away, glaring at the man.

“The one and only! Tell me, Batsy, how’d you like my present? I’m sure the boy’s cleaning up after all my mess, huh?” Joker grinned ear to ear, chuckling as if they weren’t talking about a blown-up building.

“You’re coming with me.”

“Nuh-uh! See, I haven’t had my fun yet!”

The speakers suddenly stopped, leaving them in almost silence. Joker took a few steps back, reaching into a closet door and pulling out a young woman. She had red hair, dark eyes, a round face and a gag tied around her mouth. She let out muffled cries as the Joker dragged her in front of Batman, leaving a few feet of distance between them.

“They should be delivering my package anytime soon, you know how the postal service is!” Joker checked a dark metallic watch on his wrist, chuckling.

“Let her go.” Batman tensed up. He didn’t want to make any moves yet, especially because the man he was dealing with was unpredictable, and the fact that there was now a civilian life at stake made the situation a little more tense.

Two men came through the warehouse entrance, carrying a struggling form. It took a couple seconds for Batman to fully see him in the small amount of light available.

“Robin.”

“Bingo! Bring him over, boys!”

Robin was forcefully dragged over by the girl and dropped onto the concrete floor. Unlike her, he had so many zip ties restricting his movement, Batman couldn’t even count. Even though he was gagged too, Robin made it known that he wasn’t very happy with his situation, letting out growls whenever Joker’s thugs got too close to him.

“What a naughty puppy you have here Batsy, you should really get it house-trained. At least the other one had some manners!” The Joker took the pipe he was holding and struck Jason on his back, causing the boy to grunt and fall forward.

“With that handled, let’s get the game started, shall we?” Joker was handed a gun, which he pressed to the woman’s head. She instantly knew what the object was and cried louder through the torn fabric in her mouth.

“That’s the spirit! Now, our dear ol’ Batsy is going to have to choose, a beautiful woman,” He took his free hand and grabbed the woman’s face, forcing her to look Batman in the eye, “Or his dear Robin.”

Jason was suddenly pulled up to sit by the thugs as the Joker walked from the woman’s side to behind the teen. He pulled down the gag in Robin’s mouth, letting him suck in a deep breath though his mouth.

“Batman, don’t! Save her!” He spat out before the rag was shoved back in his mouth, muffling his words once more.

“Come on, Detective, pick!” Joker shoved the gun to the back of Jason’s head. Batman tensed up, and under the cape, he pulled out a batarang,

“What’s it going to be?”

“None.”

As soon as Batman pulled out the batarang, Robin ducked away from the gun, allowing him a clear shot. The batarang landed in the muzzle, cancelling out the shot that fired. Joker dropped the gun like it was on fire, holding his hand in pain. The thugs were quick to grab the woman while Robin bent in unnatural ways to untangle himself from the zip tied mess he was in.

The Joker muttered in frustration before going to pick up the gun again. Batman rushed, cutting Robin free from the zip ties using the sharp end of another batarang before running up and kicking Joker away from the gun.

“We were just starting to have fun, you really are a buzzkill, you know?” Joker took the pipe he had earlier, holding it like a baseball bat.

“I’ve heard.” Batman brought his fists up, blocking when the Joker charged and swung at him. He could barely hear thuds and grunts coming from behind him, which meant that Jason was doing a pretty good job against the two goons, though he expected that out of the teen.

He and Joker’s fight only lasted a few minutes, ending when Batman was able to land an uppercut and render the other unconscious. He turned to see that Jason had tied up the two goons with the zip ties they had in their jacket pockets. They both had more wounds than Batman would find necessary, but he didn’t say anything about it. The woman was ungagged now, but quiet while she cried.

“It’ll be okay.” He heard Jason say firmly as the boy knelt down next to her.

Batman walked over, “Let’s go. We’ll take Joker to Arkham Asylum. The authorities will be here soon.”

The woman nodded, “T-thank you.” She said, wiping her tears and smudged makeup away. Robin stood up, putting his hands on his hips and sighing.

Just as soon as they thought they were in the clear, there was quiet laughter.

“Move!”

A gunshot.

Batman looked around to see Joker holding the gun from earlier in his hands, and Jason holding the woman’s body as she bled from a wound in her stomach.

“Shit!” Jason put his hands on her abdomen, applying pressure in hopes to slow down the bleeding. Batman signaled for an ambulance before running after the Joker.

Unfortunately, Joker somehow slipped away, taking the gun with him, and when he returned, Jason was performing CPR on the woman.

“Come on!” The boy almost begged as he pressed down on her chest over and over again. Batman rushed over, feeling on a spot on her neck for a pulse. _Nothing_.

“Robin, she’s gone.”

“No! Come on, dammit, breathe!”

“She’s gone! We have to go, Robin!” Batman pulled him away by the arms. Jason turned towards him; his expression unreadable.

They were completely silent the whole way home. When they returned to the Bat-cave, Jason took off his suit and mask in record time before running off to his room.

Bruce sighed, staying in the cave while he tried to find anything on the Joker in the traffic cam footage from tonight. Alfred had been standing to the side but hadn’t said anything after seeing Jason storm away.

“May I ask what happened tonight, Master Bruce?”

After a brief moment of hesitation, Bruce spoke, “I let a girl die. Jason thinks it’s his fault.”

“Not to be disrespectful, sir, but if Master Jason thinks that it’s his fault, is it wise for him to be alone, and to keep thinking that?”

Bruce paused the traffic cam footage and looked at him, “I suppose..not.”

“Go talk to the boy, he carries too much weight on his shoulders. Reminds me of a certain someone.”

“Alright. I’m going.” He raised his hands, not wanting to hear anymore of Alfred’s remarks as he walked over to the stairs, “Thank you, Alfred.”

“Anytime, sir.”

Bruce went back up to the manor, going upstairs, pacing around the hallway before knocking on Jason’s door.

“Jaylad, you in there?”

“Yeah.”

“May I come in?”

“No.”

“I’m coming in.”

He opened the door, glancing around the room. There was a stack of novels by Jason’s bed, but Jason wasn’t reading them. Instead, he was sat on his bed, facing the window with his head in his hands.

“I know it was tough tonight.”

“I let someone die.”

“It was my fault. I let my guard down.”

“But I was right next to her! I could’ve done something!”

Jason looked up at him, eyes watering but not letting any tears out. His hands were shaking slightly, and he nervously fixed his clothing.

“It happens. It wasn’t easy for me to accept the first time I messed up either.” Bruce took a second to move over and sit next to Jason, wrapping an arm around the teen. “I couldn’t face the fact that I made a mistake, but once I did, I never let that mistake happen again.”

Jason glanced over at him, nodding before looking down, “I could’ve done something, could’ve made sure that the gun wasn’t there for him to grab, or that she was out of the building-”

“And you’ll make sure to do that next time. We all make mistakes. Dick didn’t want to go on patrol for days when he couldn’t stop a man from taking his own life, he didn’t want to talk to anyone either…What I’m trying to say, Jason, is that everyone makes mistakes, we’re human after all, but what makes a difference is that we learn from our mistakes and get better from them.”

“…Thanks Bruce. I mean it.”

“Want me to leave now?”

“No, stay. Please.”

And so, he did.


	4. Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before we start, this might not be perfectly comic-accurate, but I tried my best to keep it true to canon while adding some little tid-bits onto it!

April 27th. It would’ve been what Bruce deemed a ‘normal’ day if he wasn’t in such a dire situation.

Joker had Jason. Recent events led them to Ethiopia, when Jason tried to follow his biological mother, Sheila. They had been separated after Robin stormed off on his own. Jason’s own mother ended up handing him over, and now he was in a race against time. His motorbike zoomed so quickly that the air bit at his skin and the air moved against him, but he couldn’t think about the insignificant inconveniences now.

Rain was just starting to fall, causing the bike to sometimes hydroplane and slip whenever he made a sharp turn. Bruce had the night vision in his cowl turned on, making it much easier to see where he was going. Currently, He was still a few minutes away from the warehouse Jason was in, even though he was driving well over the speed-limit.

He knew he was being reckless. He was taking new and dangerous shortcuts, the bike moving so fast that at any point Bruce thought it might just give up and combust from over-exertion.

At this point, he didn’t care anymore. He just had to make sure his son was safe.

* * *

Sometimes, Jason hated himself for making such stupid situations. If he didn’t try to reach out to his actual mother, he would’ve never gotten into this dilemma. But here he was, tied up in a chair, his hands cuffed behind his back.

It didn’t take a long time for the Joker to come around and start having his ‘fun’, brutally striking him over, and over, and over again. Jason felt liquid beginning to drip down the side of his head every time the Joker was thoughtful enough to allow Jason a second to breath, blood leaving his hair matted and his ear feeling sticky and warm, which felt disturbing to say the least.

The constant beating kept going, and at one point the rope around his arms and chest loosened before letting him fall to the ground completely. The Joker must’ve gotten bored of hitting a quiet and still Robin, because when Jason finally couldn’t suppress a scream, a psychotic smile spread across his cracked and pale face.

“Batsy’s not coming for you, boy, just accept it. You’ll never be as good as his real Boy Wonder. He would’ve put up more of a fight.”

Being beaten by the Joker wasn’t one of his hobbies, and he didn’t want to make it a habit either, so rather than spitting out some snarky comment like his subconscious screamed at him to, he planned on playing dead next time he was hit. Sure, it might be the oldest trick in the book, but he hoped it would earn him a few minutes of peace, maybe some time to regain some of his strength.

As the Joker struck him again with a crowbar, he fell limp on the ground with a grunt, shutting his eyes and slowing his breathing.

“Aw puh! I was just starting to have fun!” He heard Joker say.

His ribs stung, his head throbbed, and every other part of his body ached, but lying still on the ground seemed to dull his senses for a second. All he could do now was stall until Bruce could come and find him.

He heard Sheila in the background, probably begging the Joker to stop. He would’ve been able to decipher words if he cared a bit, but at this point, he was tired, and he wanted Batman to hurry up and save him.

Jason only snapped out of thought after he felt a cold crowbar prodding at a tender spot on his side, causing him to wince involuntarily.

“Ah! So, you are awake! Good show, really kid. I thought I had really killed you for a second there.”

“Shit.”

Before he could even curl up in hopes to protect himself, white hot pain seared through his body. It seemed like it would never stop, blow after blow. He couldn’t hold back any screams now, but as loud as he was, he couldn’t hear himself anymore. He felt nothing but pain.

“Let me hear you sing!” The Joker ruthlessly hit him again.

As soon as he stopped, Jason fell limp onto the floor, conscious, but weak and bloodied. He had to admit, he thought he was dead for a second, the constant pain with every breath reminding him he was still very alive.

_Bruce should’ve been here by now. Why hasn’t he come yet? Where’s Batman?_

Jason shook the thoughts away, focusing on staying alive was more important than wondering when Batman was going to come save him like he was some damsel in distress.

Distantly, he heard Joker say something before feeling a gross, grimy hand run through his hair and pulling him up by it. Through swelling eyes, he was able to see the madman’s smile, it made Jason feel sick, so he spat blood on Joker’s face, flashing a snarky smile afterwards.

“As much as I’d love to beat some more manners into you, I have to go, must’ve left my oven on. Be a good boy!”

Joker dropped his head, letting Jason fall back to the ground before walking to the warehouse door.

After the door shut, Jason collected whatever strength he had left as he tried to sit up. As soon as he was able to move, pain flared up his side and he ended up falling again.

“Shit.” He hissed under his breath, curling up in a ball to twist and contort until he was able to get his cuffed hands in front of him. It felt like minutes went by until he finally did it, but once he did, he was confident he could try sitting up again.

Swinging his whole body up, Jason put his hands under him and got himself up. Sure, it hurt like a bitch, but at least he wasn’t lying on the cold ground anymore.

_Gotta try the door._

His knees trembled as he somehow stood up, threatening to buckle underneath him as he took a step forward. He paused, catching his breath before stepping forward again, and again until he reached the door.

His heart was pounding at this point, this would be his chance to get out before the Joker came back to do whatever he wanted to him.

His shaking and cuffed hands reached for the doorknob and twisted the handle.

Locked.

“Fuck, no.” He muttered, jiggling it again. There was a ticking noise that his ears had just now started to pick up. He twisted and saw a bundle of dynamite, and a timer.

_30 seconds. I need more time._

Falling to the ground, he tried to think of something, anything he could do. Sheila was crying faintly, muffled by a gag in her mouth.

When the clock reached 15 seconds, he realized Bruce wasn’t coming for him this time.

_Dick would’ve found a way out._

_Batman didn’t need a lesser Robin._

_Batman abandoned him._

_I failed._

He peeled off the half of the mask on his face that had been slashed from the rest. If he was going to die, what was the point of a secret identity, right?

Bruce would cover it up. Make it seem as if ‘Jason Todd’, his second son, never existed. He wouldn’t mourn, that’s not what Batman does. Batman doesn’t mourn, he doesn’t lose at all, he just moves on. And as much as Jason tried to be as perfect as Dick, he’d never match up. He was too confrontational, too aggressive, something Dick could never be, which is why he was in this situation to begin with.

He tried to accept his death, but something inside him boiled up. There was something telling him that this wasn’t it. He wasn’t meant to just be Robin; he wasn’t mean to be just Jason Todd.

He was supposed to be better.

He closed his eyes, leaned against the cold metal door and listened to the ticking of the clock, counting.

_3._

_2._

_1._

* * *

Batman was just in the nick of time. Joker had made it well known that Jason was sitting by pounds of dynamite, that there was a clock ticking down until said bombs went off.

Relief washed over him as he jumped off his bike, dashing towards the door.

Before he could get to it, however, the building exploded, with his son inside.

Bruce covered himself with the cape right as the blast propelled him back. He landed onto pavement, and pain didn’t stop him from jumping up and throwing himself at the rubble.

“Robin?!” He called out, digging and moving pieces of concrete away, desperately trying to find a sign of Jason, anywhere.

“Robin? Where are you?!” Dread sank into his heart.

He searched for minutes until he saw red and yellow.

When he uncovered Jason, he was in shock. The boy was covered in blood and bruises, surprisingly still in one piece. His mask was almost torn off while his hair stuck to his forehead, black locks stained a gruesome crimson.

He wasn’t breathing.

Bruce tried for a pulse, nothing. Jason’s skin was losing warmth, his usually tanner skin turning ghost white and his body was completely limp. Bruce cursed under his breath, pumping on his chest as he attempted CPR.

It felt like hours. When he finally accepted Jason was dead, he was overwhelmed with so much guilt and loss that he felt numb. Cradling his son’s stone-cold body in his arms, he let the rain wash the blood away.

“I’m sorry Jason.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What did you think? I honestly love Jason, and when I first read Death In The Family, I nearly cried. However, even though we love Jason, he has to die in order to become the Red Hood we know and love today! Future chapters might take longer for me to upload because I'm currently spending around 12 hours at school per day, with theater and all of that, but I will try and upload when I can! Thank you!


	5. Slight Signs

Losing Jason was one of the toughest things Bruce has had to go through. The loss weighed down his heart and twisted his gut, every day being a struggle to keep moving on as Batman.

Tim made it easier, helped him cope. He helped take some of the weight Bruce carried on his shoulders. Dick still stopped by, a bit more regularly after Jason’s death, but he kept his visits short and sweet. He’d spend a night or two before leaving sometimes without a word.

Today, all three of them were home. Dick had gotten traces of weapon trafficking going from Blüdhaven to Gotham, so he eagerly agreed to help Bruce take it down. Tim spun around on the computer chair in the Batcave, fully suited up.

“Hey, Timmy, slow down, you’ll make yourself sick.” Dick chuckled, walking over and sweeping the kid up with one arm.

“Dick! Put me down!” The boy almost squeaked, squirming around.

“Awww, we were just having fun though.” Dick maneuvered to hold Tim up from under his arms, so he was facing him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Bruce walking up, dressed in a suit and tie. _Must’ve come from a meeting_, he thought.

“Dick, put him down.”

He gently set the kid onto the floor, chuckling as Tim ran off to hug Bruce. Dick turned to face the man and leaned on the computer desk, “Busy day?”

Bruce nodded, probably not wanting to talk about how fun business meetings and took off his suit jacket after Tim pulled away from their hug, “Ready?” He asked the two of them. Tim nodded as Dick pushed off the desk.

“I should be after I get my suit on.” Dick stood up straight, walking over to pull out his Nightwing suit and gear, “I’ll be back.”

* * *

After they were all suited up, they headed out to the streets. The drive down to the slums of Gotham was filled with silence, Dick breaking the tension every now and then to make a snarky comment about the city and its impeding traffic.

Batman was especially strict now on patrols following Jason’s death, making sure neither Robin nor Nightwing wandered too far off, though it was a little hard considering that Dick was much more agile and faster than him now.

They arrived at the area they suspected to be the base of operations, watching from above as they stood on the roof of the building next to it. Nightwing swung one of his Escrima sticks around in the air, humming.

“So, are we just waiting now?”

“Yes.”

Batman gave Nightwing a look as he said that, hopefully reminding him that this was serious. Tim sat next to him, his legs dangling off the ledge as he watched intently for any suspicious behavior.

They had been waiting for around forty-five minutes when several black vans pulled up to the warehouse.

“A bit cliché, right Batman?”

“Nightwing, quiet.”

“I don’t think he can manage that, Batman.”

“Robin.”

“Okay, shutting up now.”

“I love playing the quiet game.” Nightwing sighed, watching as several henchmen walked out of the warehouse, opening the back doors of the vans and unloading several closed cases that were allegedly harboring all kinds of guns.

“I’m going in.”

Taking a step off the ledge of the building, Nightwing shot out a line and gracefully swung down to the warehouse, landing on one of the vans. Robin tensed up, crouching as if he was going to follow.

“Stay here until I signal you down.”

“Aw, bummer.”

Batman swung down now. By now, there were several muffled gunshots firing in his direction. Nightwing had taken out a few of the criminals, snatching the cases from them and placing them on window ledges too high for the goons to reach.

At some point, he must’ve slipped inside because when Bruce checked around to find Nightwing, he was nowhere to be found. He looked up where Robin was supposed to be standing but also found nothing. A parental panic started to settle, his heart beginning to thud before he saw a flash of a familiar red, yellow and black suit.

Turns out, Robin had been fighting from the shadows. Bruce had to admit, he was impressed but also frustrated at the same time. Did anyone listen to him at this point? Quickly making his way over to the boy, Batman was able to help pull off a man who was close to snatching up Robin, throwing him out of the way.

It didn’t take long to incapacitate the men with the two of them working together. Robin hopped up to his feet, dusting off his costume, “That was awesome, huh Batman?”

“Robin, you didn’t wait for my signal.”

Tim’s proud stance shrunk as he looked up at Batman, noticing his disappointed glare through the cowl.

“Sorry.”

Batman just nodded, ready to walk in. He hadn’t heard much coming from the inside of the building. That either meant that Nightwing was handling the situation well, or not well at all.

“Let’s go. Nightwing might need our help.”

Robin nodded and followed him to the door, slipping in after him. The main room was well lit, the corners being the only places where shadows collected. In the middle, he saw two figures, one being his son, NIghtwing, and the other being the one and only Deathstroke. _What else could go wrong?_

“I thought you were better than this, Slade! You must be getting real desperate if you’re taking sucky jobs like this!” Nightwing swung a punch at him, but the man ducked down, grabbed his arm, twisted it behind his back and pushed him to the floor in one swift movement.

“Money’s money, Grayson. Wouldn’t expect a kid like you to understand.”

Batman tensed up at the use of Dick’s last name. _Has Slade known? Did Dick just let it slip? Did Slade know all of their identities? _He tried to listen in for an answer, but the sound of a few gunshots firing his direction snapped him briefly out of concentration.

“Robin, move.” He rushed over and sheltered the two of them with his cape, which deflected any bullets coming their way. Batman moved them both over to one of the corners, so they were shielded by darkness. Tim kept close to him, pushing his own cape out of the way so he could maneuver around the small space. Peeking out of the cape, he made sure that there weren’t any more bullets hurtling directly towards them before stepping out of its safety.

Robin looked around, waiting for the men who were firing the shots to approach them before lunging at one, jumping on his shoulders and taking the gun straight from his hands.

“You should keep better track of these things, they’re supposed to be very important.” Robin teased before chucking the gun as far away as he could.

Batman took on three of the men, taking one by the arm and swinging him around, knocking the two others down to the ground. Throwing the man in his arms away, he pulled out a smoke grenade and hurled it at the ground. Soon enough, fog clouded the air, and the three men stumbled aimlessly, trying to find the caped crusader.

Batman moved out of the haze, eyes darting around to search for Robin and Nightwing. Robin was taking the guns that had fallen onto the floor and stashing them away so the goons couldn’t reach them. NIghtwing was still fighting Deathstroke, but it was almost clear that he was losing. The two were soon swallowed up by the smoke, making it almost impossible to watch.

“You know, kid. You’re underwhelming.” He heard Slade say.

A snap echoed in the air, followed by Dick’s pained screaming. Bruce’s heart stopped for a second as he took in everything happening and tried to hatch a plan to get to his son quickly. Another snap followed by more of Dick’s crying out ensued, drowning out any other sound in the building. Batman was searching desperately but was distracted by the three men from before.

Robin bumped into him, promptly moving out of the way to throw himself at an oncoming thug. He kicked the man’s chest and forced him to the ground. Batman joined the fight, swinging a punch at another man. Sometime in the fight, Dick’s shrieking ceased abruptly, and some new sounds echoed in the room.

A window shattering, the sounds of someone landing on the floor and footsteps. Then there was grunting, but it wasn’t Dick’s this time, it was Slade’s. It was followed by several gunshots, ones that surprisingly weren’t aimed at him.

With Batman and Robin together, taking down the three thugs was easy, and in the end, they zip-tied them to each other.

It took minutes for the smoke to diffuse in the air. Both Dick and Slade were missing, but Deathstroke’s helmet sat on its side in the middle of the room, some of the bronze shell cracked with blood splattered around it. That didn’t help soothe Bruce’s nerves at all, it only made him worry for his son more.

“Batmobile. Now.”

He looked to Tim, who nodded quickly and rushed off. After calling Commissioner Gordon, he followed him out. As he got closer and closer to the car, Batman noticed someone sitting in the passenger seat. Approaching cautiously, he got to the door and opened it.

Dick was sitting almost limply in the passenger seat. His face was swollen and bloodied, and his fingers were definitely in the wrong positions. He was mumbling almost silently to himself, repeating the same word over and over again.

“Jason?” He hoarsely called out.

“No, no. Nightwing, it’s me, Batman.” Bruce softened his voice, nudging him gently. Dick didn’t respond, trying to move around in his dazed state. Bruce backed away to let Tim climb in the car, moving to the driver’s side and slipping into the seat.

After Bruce called Agent A to let him know that Dick would need medical attention, the drive back home was filled with nothing but Dick’s groaning and occasional whimpers in pain.

* * *

When they finally arrived back at the cave, Tim helped Bruce carry Dick out of the Bat-mobile and set him on a table in the center. Alfred had prepared monitors, I.V drips, and oxygen tanks before they came, so everything was ready for use. Bruce helped disarm and peel off Nightwing’s suit, leaving Dick in a white undershirt and boxers.

Alfred pulled on gloves, ready to start working as he took Dick’s arm in his hands. As soon as he laid his fingers on Dick’s skin, the boy came back to life with blind panic. He thrashed around, screaming both in a mixture of pain and shock. Bruce was quick to rush over, pinning both of Dick’s arms down to his side. Tim dashed to one of the cabinets, pulling out restraints and returning to the table, helping Alfred strap Dick down limb by limb.

“Dick, please!.” Bruce took off his cowl and tried to reason with his son, “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

Dick only stopped struggling after Alfred jammed his arm with a syringe filled with sedative. The three of them all let out a collective sigh of relief. With Dick settled, it was easy to tend to his wounds. He ended up having 10 stitches all together, and splints for his broken fingers.

Tim had left after helping Alfred clean up, retreating to his room upstairs without a word. Bruce sat by Dick, frowning as he took his good hand and ran his thumb over his knuckles softly. _If only I was quicker. _The fact that Jason was the one he called out to for help hurt. Dick knew he was dead, so why would he be the one to save one? Maybe it was because of his state, maybe it was something else. Bruce was pretty sure Dick wouldn’t remember enough to answer his questions.

Alfred put a hand on his shoulder, “Try not to stay awake all night, Master Bruce.” He said kindly before turning away and walking upstairs.

It didn’t take long for Dick to stir. Out of all of kids, Dick would be the one to wake up fresh out of surgery, babble nonsense, fall back asleep and remember nothing afterwards. The boy twitched subtly at first, groaning before his eyes started to flutter open, trying to adjust to the light of the room.

“Hey, chum.” Bruce smiled, scooting forward.

“Bruce?” He slurred, looking around the room.

“I’m here.”

“Wh-where’s Jas’n? … was there.”

“Jason’s dead, Dick.”

“No. no. He saved me. He..he was wearing.. weird helmet. Had to take it off. I saw him, B. Believe me.” Dick struggled to say. He looked up at Bruce, squeezing his hand lightly.

“Hey, it’s okay, Dick. I believe you.”

“It was Jay. I know it.”

“Dick, take a deep breath. It’s okay.” He brushed the hair out of Dick’s face, sighing.

The boy looked at him and nodded, sucking in a deep breath and exhaling, “I’m good, prom’se.” He muttered, “Where’s Tim? Safe?”

“Yes, Tim’s upstairs, he’s okay. You need to rest.”

“’M fine.”

“Sleep, Dick, you’ll feel better in the morning.” Bruce spoke sternly, having no problem using his batman voice as he made eye contact with his son.

Dick only nodded, looking up at the ceiling before shutting his eyes and shuffling around sluggishly to get comfortable. Bruce stood up, grabbing a spare thin blanket and tossing it over Dick.

“Goodnight.” He leaned down and planted a light kiss on Dick’s forehead.

“G’night.”

He stepped back, watching as Dick’s breath evened out before turning and putting his cowl on, leaving a note saying he’d be out for the whole night most likely. Bruce walked to the Batcycle and hopped on, zooming out of the cave as quietly as a motorcycle could.

If Dick was right, if he did see Jason, he needed to know.


	6. Jackets Too Big

Bruce knew sometimes he was a little too harsh on Tim.

Every time he caught himself scolding the boy for the simplest of things, he’d mentally smack himself afterwards. He knew it was because of Jason’s death. It left a hole in his heart, one that he would probably never be able to repair. He doesn’t want to lose another kid, never again. His heart probably couldn’t handle that.

Sure, he had some scares with Dick when he was a kid, but he’d always bounce back the next day. He and Jason had a rockier relationship, but they still trusted and loved each other until the end.

Tim was different. Unlike Dick and Jason, Tim saw Bruce as a hero, not some 30-year-old billionaire who dressed up like a bat at night. The kid came in bright-eyed, diving headfirst into vigilante life without a second thought.

It was cute. Dangerous, yet cute.

The times he’d catch Tim in the mirror, practicing a ‘Batman’ scowl or reciting several one liners Dick had taught him were golden. He was always trying his best, striving to improve, and giving everything his all.

What he saw today was a treasure compared to the other times.

He was walking down the hallway after he had returned from a business meeting. It wasn’t about anything important, just statistics, but _god_, it was long, and boring. He headed towards the den when he noticed one of his blue ties laying in Tim’s doorway. The door was barely open, a crack of light peeking through, and he could he rustling from behind it.

He knew it was an invasion of privacy, but his curiosity got the best of him, it usually does, but he always has a backup plan for if things go south. Walking over, he made sure he opened the door up silently. From where he stood, he could see a sliver of Tim’s side peeking out from the wall. Bruce slid inside, still careful not to let Tim spot him.

He couldn’t believe his own eyes.

Tim had stolen his clothes, wearing a blazer that could honestly be used as a dress, pants that needed a tight belt so they wouldn’t fall, a tie, a dress shirt and two of his black loafers that made Tim look like an gothic clown. The boy adjusted his tie and chuckled to the mirror.

“I’m Bruce Wayne, I may be a genius billionaire, but I can’t even make a cup of hot chocolate.”

“Well, Bruce Wayne, you have a meeting in five minutes, you must get going.”

Tim nearly jumped out of his skin, turning around. His eyes were blown wide, and his face now paled out more than his usual skin tone. After regaining some of his composure, the boy chuckled nervously, waving at him.

“Oh, uh- Hi.”

Bruce held back a laugh, “Sorry, Mr.Wayne, am I interrupting something?”

Tim stripped himself of the oversized clothing in no-time, leaving him in a pair of black shorts and a white long-sleeved t-shirt. He looked up at Bruce, face red with embarrassment and his hair messed up from the process of removing his clothes.

“No.”

“So, this is what you do when I’m gone?”

“No- No! I was uh…I got bored.” Tim admitted.

“So, you stole my clothes and pretended to be me.”

“I, um. First off, I only borrowed the clothes, I was going to put them back.” Tim looked down at the heap of clothes. “And about pretending to be you… I- uh, I..” He paused for a chuckle, “I don’t have a good answer for that.”

Bruce walked over, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“I have one thing to say.”

He noticed Tim tense up as he looked up to Bruce, eyebrows scrunched up in a worried expression.

“You need to work on the voice.”

Giving the boy a pat on the shoulder, he smiled before reaching down to pick up the heap of clothes. He collected the pile in his arms and glanced at Tim, “I was thinking, why don’t we go to the movies tonight? I heard there’s a new horror movie out. Forgot what it was called.”

“I’d like that.” Tim nodded, scratching at his arm awkwardly.

“Alright, we’ll head out around 7? I’m sure there’ll be a showing around 8. That gives you around…” He checked his watch, “3 hours. We can eat dinner after.”

“Okay. Thanks Dad-“

His heart stopped.

“-Bruce.” Tim tried to save himself, but it was too late. He said the ‘D’ word. It must’ve been subconsciously.

Bruce shook his head, forcing himself not to focus on the fact that his heart was melting, “Be ready by 7.” Was all he said before slipping out of the room, clutching the clothes to his chest.

He leaned on the wall, clearing his throat before going back to normal and walking back to his room to put his clothes back. He had a toothy, impossible to conceal, smile on his face the whole time.

The next time he saw Tim was at 6:50pm. He was reading the latest newspaper as Tim slipped down the staircase almost silently. Bruce looked up.

“Ready?”

Tim nodded. He now wore a navy-blue dress shirt along with a pair of dark gray pants. His hair was still a little damp from the shower he had taken an hour before.

“Let’s head out then.” Bruce stood up, folding his paper up and setting it on the coffee table. He walked over to the coat rack, grabbing his blazer.

“Alfred! Tim and I are heading out!”

“Be on your best behavior Master Bruce!” He heard Alfred call back as they walked outside. The car was parked, waiting for them in front of the porch. Tim hurried down the stairs, walked around the vehicle and stopped at the door to wait for the car to unlock.

Once he got the keys in the door, he unlocked the doors and slid in the driver’s seat. Tim hopped in and shut the it after, immediately putting on his seat belt. Bruce locked his in after turning the car on.

“You can pick the music, I don’t mind.” He looked at Tim. The boy nodded and flicked through the stations.

Bruce started to drive off, occasionally glancing at Tim. It took a few minutes for him to settle on a radio station, picking one that played some Alternative Rock. It wasn’t really Bruce’s favorite, but hey, to each their own.

After 30 minutes of traffic, they finally made it to the cinema. Tim walked with Bruce over to the ticket booth as he bought two tickets to the 8 o’clock showing of_ Insidious_. It sounded cliché, but at least it was a movie.

They bought some popcorn and snacks before actually going to the theater room. The two found seats in the higher rows, making themselves comfy as they watched the commercials and previews for movies that were coming out soon.

Bruce was honestly thankful that no one had recognized him before the lights turned down, making the room almost pitch black as the opening credits started.

The movie was fine. He wasn’t scared by it, but Tim sure was. Every time something close to slightly startling popped up, the boy grabbed onto his arm like his life depended on it. It was cute.

By the time it was over, and the credits were halfway done, Tim was shakily ready to leave.

“Was it scary?” Bruce asked with a smirk, looking down at his boy as they moved towards the exit of the room.

“N-no. Not at all!” He chuckled.

“Sure.” Bruce laughed softly, throwing away their trash before scooping up the boy in his arms. He was starting to get a little taller, but he wasn’t gaining as much muscle as Jason and Dick were when they were his age. Tim was lankier, while Dick and Jason were more built and muscular, like Bruce. It wasn’t a bad thing, but an observation Bruce made.

They managed to sneak back to the car without any paparazzi ambushing playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne and his third adopted kid. Tim giggled, watching as some people only started to notice them from their expensive car. Bruce quickly got in, locking the door, turning on the car and trying to speed off before anyone could get their phones out.

Tim flipped through the radios again, giving up after the 4th try to find some new music and settling for one that played Brittney Spears. He stretched and yawned.

“Dick likes this music.”

Bruce shook his head, “I know that too well.” He chuckled, keeping an eye on the road.

They had some small talk for a while, mostly because the traffic kept them sitting at a red light for some time. However, some where during the car ride, Tim went quiet, curling up into the seat. Bruce glanced over and saw him sleeping. It was a Friday night, so Tim didn’t necessarily have to worry about homework tonight. At least the boy was getting sleep. Tim was unlike Bruce’s other kids, because he could function without sleep for at least a day. Dick would usually just pass out, and Jason would be irritable and grumpy the whole day after.

Bruce pulled in front of the manor and parked, unlocking the car and slipping out quietly. He walked to the other side and opened the passenger side door. Tim shifted slightly but sunk back into the car seat. Bruce huffed a small laugh before reaching down and picking him up effortlessly.

He walked up the stairs with the boy in his arms and got his keys out of his pocket, holding Tim with one arm and opening the door with the other. Alfred was dusting some of the pictures on the walls when he entered the house.

“How was the movie, Master Bruce?”

“Good. Tim had a good time, I think.”

“That or he got quite bored of you, sir.”

Bruce chuckled at that, causing the boy to shuffle around in his arms.

“I’ll put him to bed.”

He walked upstairs and to Tim’s bedroom. It was as neat as ever, though, he didn’t expect any less from him. Tim was very organized, and a genius at that, and his room reflected that. It was a medium blue-gray color, with light shelfs decorating the wall. He carried the boy over to his bed, taking his shoes off before setting him on the bed. Tim shifted around before going still.

“Goodnight Tim.” He covered the boy in the thinnest blanket he had, just in case he got hot in the middle of the night.

He walked out of the room and headed back downstairs, walking by Alfred. The elder looked at him, “You should go to bed soon, sir. Crime can wait one night.”

“Alfred, I’m just going on patrol for maybe 2 hours, I’ll be fine. I can catch up on sleep tomorrow.” He put his coat on the rack.

“I’m just giving you some advice, Master Bruce. Falling behind on sleep is never good, even if you are a superhero.”

“I know. I know.” Bruce nodded, already heading towards the cave’s staircase.

“Good luck, sir.”

Bruce walked downstairs and looked around the Batcave, walking to his suit and taking it off the rack. He’d only be out for a little bit. Putting on his suit, he grabbed his utility belt and headed to the Batmobile. Bruce turned the engine on and sped away.

The whole time he was out, he kept thinking about today. Tim called him ‘Dad’. It was genuine, and it made Bruce’s heart grow three times its size every time he replayed the memory in his head. He was thankful for every second he was able to spend with Tim, because it helped him patch up the hole in his heart that Jason left when he died. Today was one of the days Bruce will never forget, one of the days he would cling onto whenever he needed to push through an emotional or physical challenge.

When Tim grew big enough, Bruce would give him suits too small for himself, and they’d definitely go and see any horror movie that comes out in the future.

He was able to sleep that night without any nightmares.


	7. Flu Season

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: slight description of vomiting; nothing too graphic!

As the winter started to settle in Gotham, so did flu season.

Now, Tim got his vaccinations every year, but that apparently didn’t stop him from falling ill.

He had stumbled into the living room after returning home from school, when Bruce had just finished reading a book. The boy sneezed twice in a row before looking up at him and mumbling.

“I think ‘m sick.” Was all he was about to get out before nearly collapsing.

Bruce stood up and was by his side in a half-second. He picked up the teen with ease, even with his (quite heavy) backpack. He’d have to remember to tell Tim to lighten his backpack, it could give him back problems. After moving him to the couch, he helped him slip off the backpack and placed a hand on his forehead. Bruce frowned.

“You’re burning up.”

Alfred came into the room, right on time. Though, that seemed to be his super-power, always showing up at the perfect moment. The elder walked over, glanced over Tim, tested his forehead next and frowned.

“He has a fever. Master Bruce, will you please bring down some thinner clothes for Master Timothy? I’ll fetch some ice bags, and medicine.”

Bruce wordlessly nodded, glancing over Tim one last time before heading upstairs. He walked into the boy’s room. It was nearly spotless, minus the mess of papers on the desk. He couldn’t blame him, he could only imagine how much homework he was getting. Looking around, he searched for what he needed and walked to his dresser, pulling a drawer open to snatch out a pair of gym shorts and a blue t-shirt. Before he left to go back downstairs, he grabbed one of Tim’s pillows, just in case, and added it to the stack of things in his arms.

When he walked downstairs, he saw Alfred taking Tim’s temperature. Bruce paced towards the couch, setting the clothes and pillow aside and crouching down so he could help Tim sit up. The boy grumbled, but didn’t try to resist, raising his arms. Bruce helped him peel off his sweater to replace it with the t-shirt.

“’M cold.”

“That’s what a fever usually does, Timmy.” Bruce brushed the kid’s hair back before moving to pull off his jeans. The shorts were fairly easy to get on, because Tim was light, and it didn’t take much to lift him up. He set the pillow under his head as he laid Tim back down. As soon as he was clear, Alfred started setting ice packs over the pale kid’s skin, sighing as Tim started to shiver.

“I’ll make some tea. That’ll surely make you feel better, young Master.” Alfred said before walking to the kitchen.

“Did Alfred give you some medicine?”

Tim looked up at him with exhausted, puffy eyes, “Yeah.” He mumbled in a scratchy voice before coughing a few times.

Bruce stood up, moving Tim aside so he could fit next to him on the couch. Tim leaned into him acceptingly, groaning a bit. He smiled slightly and wrapped an arm around the kid, rubbing his shoulder gently.

“Did Jason and Dick ever get sick like this?” Tim whispered, clearing his throat.

Bruce stiffened slightly, he didn’t even know why, but he took a deep breath and nodded.

“Plenty of times. Dick had a strong immune system, but when he was down, it was bad. Jason would occasionally get a cold; he even got a nasty stomach bug once. Scared me half to death.” He chuckled.

The boy chuckled, “I miss Dick.”

“I’m sure he’d love to visit.”

“That’d be nice.”

Bruce reached over with his free hand to get the T.V. remote off the wooden coffee table. He clicked the on button and immediately turned down the sound, so that it wasn’t too loud, but it wasn’t too quiet.

“Can we watch old cartoons? Like, uh, Dexter’s lab or the Power Puff Girls?”

He looked down at Tim, smirking just a bit in amusement.

“’Course, whatever you want.”

He went on-demand, finding the Power Puff Girls with ease and putting that on. Alfred walked over with a tray that held a kettle with two teacups and their coasters, setting it down on the coffee table.

“Thank you, Alfred.” Both Tim and Bruce simultaneously.

“Don’t let it get cold. Master Tim, I’ll be back to check on you later.” Alfred nodded, looking over the boy before leaving once more.

Tim shivered as he moved away from Bruce, leaning over and picking up the teacup and coaster.

“Be careful, it’s hot.” Bruce warned.

“I know how to drink tea.” Tim chuckled before taking a sip, immediately wincing, putting the coaster and cup down before forcing himself to swallow. “It’s hot.”

“Told you.” Bruce picked up his, making sure to blow on it first before putting it to his lips and drinking.

“Show off.”

Bruce smiled, setting his tea back down on the tray, “Blow on it first.”

Tim pouted, grumbling, “Whatever you say.” He said sarcastically before picking up his cup, blowing on it this time before taking a long sip.

“Better?”

“Yeah..”

“Told you so.”

“Shush.” He set down his tea before sneezing.

“Bless you.”

“Thanks.” Tim snuggled back into Bruce’s side and shut his eyes, “Thanks for everything.” He grumbled.

“You’re welcome.”

He looked down and watched as the boy’s sniffly breathing slowly even out to a slow pace as his body slumped into Bruce’s side. His skin felt cooler than it did thirty minutes ago, so that was good. Instead of bringing the boy up to his room, Bruce felt like he would sit and watch some T.V. while the kid slept.

While he had the time, he reflected on the times Jason was sick. He stayed home those night, and they would watch movies together, even though they were repeatedly interrupted by Jason’s sneezing. It was nice, staying in, hiding in wrapped blankets and sipping some of Alfred’s delicious hot chocolate.

For a boy who didn’t really like to be vulnerable, or cuddly, Jason gave great hugs. Maybe because it meant that they were genuine, that he’s chosen to hug you, not that he’s forced to. At the time, Jason was small enough to fit under Bruce’s arm comfortable, like Tim is now. The flu left him as quickly as it came, the next morning he was usually half back to his normal self, and the next, he was fully healed.

When Dick was sick, he didn’t want to let it show. God knows how many times he let the kid join him on patrol with a cold because of how adamant he was. One time, he pushed himself over the edge, and Bruce got a call from the school that Dick had thrown up (luckily in a trash bin) and then proceeded to pass out on the way to the nurse’s office. Bruce is almost sure he broke a couple traffic laws that day.

Unlike Jason, Dick didn’t stay on the couch. It took hours to get him to bed, and he’d only do so after Alfred managed to slip a very low dosage of sleep medication to finally make the tiny acrobat stay in one place. He recovered quicker than Jason, Bruce thanked his background for that, the boy must’ve had a strong immune system from having to wear those thin costumes, even in the winter.

He snapped back to reality when he felt someone nudging his arm. He looked down and found Tim trying to leave from his spot, his skin looking more green than it was pale.

“Bruce…sick..”

He automatically let go of the boy, moving to stand, “On it.” Was all he said before running to grab the trashcan that sat in the corner of the room. Once he returned with it in hand, he held it up to Tim’s mouth, careful not to shove it in his face. The poor kid started to dry heave before a gut-wrenching sound came from his mouth and he started to vomit.

After a few seconds, Tim pulled away, his face cringing from what Bruce can imagine is an awful taste left in his mouth.

“Let’s get to the bathroom, you need to brush your teeth.”

Tim looked up at him, dazed. The green in his face had started to vanish, leaving his skin a sickly off-white.

“Or I can bring a tub and you can brush your teeth here.”

Tim’s slight nod gave him the answer he needed. He put the trash bin at the doorway, so he won’t forget to empty it once Tim was settled. Walking to the bathroom upstairs, he grabbed Tim’s toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste. He had to head to the cave for a tub, however. It wasn’t hard to find the stacks of them, though they were usually used for containing medical supplies rather than water and toothpaste. He filled up the tub around halfway with water and carried it with one hand, careful not to spill it. After he returned to the living room, he set the toothbrush and toothpaste down on the coffee table.

Bruce helped Tim sit upright before setting the tub in the boy’s lap, putting the toothbrush in his hand after he had squeezed out a line of toothpaste on the bristles. The kid sloppily brushed his teeth, but Bruce couldn’t blame him, he could imagine how awful he felt.

Alfred walked in with a cup of water, “I heard the Young Master’s lunch came back up?”

“Yes, thank you, Alfred.” Bruce took the cup of water, waiting for Tim to finish up before offering it.

The boy spat the excess toothpaste from his mouth, taking the cup of water from Bruce’s hand, getting a small sip, and spitting the rest out. Alfred took the tub, toothbrush and toothpaste, walking away without a word.

“How are you feeling now, kiddo?”

Tim swallowed another gulp of water, clearing his throat after he placed the glass back on the coffee table and looking at Bruce with a toothy and tired smile.

“Like a million dollars.”

“I can really tell.” Bruce sat back on the couch with him, wrapping an arm around Tim’s body and pulling him close. His hand moved up to the kid’s hair, brushing it back as the boy leaned into him.

“Thanks, for everything, Bruce. Mean it.”

“You’re welcome. Why don’t you get some sleep, you look like you need it.”

“’Kay.”

And that was it. Tim made himself comfy, closed his eyes and returned to sleep without a sound. Bruce looked at the T.V., flicking through the channels before sticking with Bob Ross. Sure, he wasn’t really a painter, but how could you go wrong with Bob Ross? At least he wasn’t stuck watching dumb reality shows. Sometimes those were entertaining, like the renovation ones, but other times Bruce was left mentally screaming at the couple on the screen about how stupid they were for buying a one-bedroom one bath. for a million dollars rather than a three-bedroom, two bath. that was in their budget because they didn’t like the color of paint on the walls.

He had no idea how Dick and Jason could watch those for hours, he really didn’t.

Alfred walked back into the room after Tim fell asleep. He placed a hand on the teen’s forehead before nodding, “The fever seems to have passed, all we can do is let him rest.” He said in almost a whisper.

Bruce nodded, “I suppose that means I’m staying in tonight.”

“If you don’t want to make the boy feel weak for falling ill, you can.”

“I’ll stay in.”

“Wise choice, really.”

“Do you think it’s the flu?” Bruce asked as he moved Tim, trying to stand up without disturbing him.

“That would be a good guess, considering it is flu season, and schools tend to be the breeding grounds for bacteria, Master Bruce.”

Bruce chuckled, shaking his head. “I’m going to fetch Tim’s blanket. Something tells me not to move him from his spot.”

The two men looked down at the resting boy. His eyes were beyond shut, his nose was a blushy red and his skin a cool pale ivory. He looked a lot more colorful than he did when he first got home, so at least that was going their way. Tim curled up in his sleep, trying to find warmth without Bruce being his personal heater. Alfred looked back up to the man.

“Go on then. The boy’s not getting any warmer.”

And so, he did.

Tim got better over the course of the next few days thankfully. They spent the afternoons playing chess and solving more word cross puzzles than they could count. Bruce missed a couple of meetings, but he didn’t care much, they were going to be on statistics and tedious topics anyways, which was quite boring to him. He did call and apologize afterwards though, blaming Tim’s flu for stopping him. And as requested, Dick visited a week later, and insisted on making a late ‘feel better’ cake. It was nice. Tim had a good time, and that’s all he could ask for.

He just wanted to see his sons happy and healthy.


	8. Sibling Rivalry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little different from the previous chapters! I really hope you like this one. It is a little different from canon, but this is kind of the way I see how the first encounters between Jason and Tim happened. Enjoy!

Tim knew Jason Todd. Well, actually, he only knew of _him_, he never got to meet him.

He heard stories though, from Dick mostly. Whenever he asked Bruce, the man would shut down almost instantly and tell him to go do his homework or make an excuse to change the subject. From what he heard, Tim would have to guess that Jason was pretty awesome.

Dick always told him about the times he’d go on solo missions and take down rogues by himself, though that could just be an exaggeration, considering how old Jason was at the time. Either way, it was pretty amazing, and he wasn’t going to lie, he did hack into the Justice League’s system just to read up on mission reports. Tim wanted to live up to his predecessor, he wanted to make Dick and Bruce proud without replacing Jason. It seemed to soon, he didn’t want Bruce thinking he was trying to take his deceased son’s place.

So, after his first official mission as Boy Wonder, he sat next to the previous Robin’s old suit’s case and talked to himself.

“This is stupid.” He muttered to himself, standing up and facing the glass case. The suit was beat up, blood stained the fabric around the collar and mud dulled the yellow color on the sleeves and on the underside of the cape. No matter how many times Alfred tried to clean the suit, the stains would never come out, a constant reminder of what had happened to the teenage boy, and by the time the elder gave it a third try, Bruce simply told him to stop. Taking a deep breath, he looked down to the framed picture of a happy Jason as Robin, standing beside a displeased Batman.

“I wanted to ask you…if it was okay for me to be Robin for a while. And I know, I’m probably just talking to a suit.. but I wanted to make sure that I wouldn’t get cursed or something, that would really suck…” He sighed.

He took the photo in his hands carefully and used the end of his shirt to wipe some dust off the edges of the frame where Alfred’s feather duster couldn’t reach.

“I figured it’d be right to… I dunno..ask you for permission. I know what happened to you, Jason. I’m sorry. If you’re worried about me, I swear, I’ll be super careful. I got Dick, Alfred and Bruce after all… They really miss you. I bet you were cool. Probably liked Justin Timberlake, he’s nice. I mean, I haven’t met the dude but... I’m rambling now, sorry. It’s just…”

He sucked in a deep breath, and sighed.

“I don’t want to fail you.”

A hand suddenly appeared on his shoulder, “You won’t.”

Tim looked up and saw the Dark Knight himself. Bruce stood beside him, dressed in civilian wear, a simple (yet very expensive) suit with a nearly-black-but-still-red tie. His expression was almost unreadable, but he didn’t look mad, or in a bad mood, which was always good in Tim’s opinion.

“H-how much did you hear?” Tim put the photo back quickly, hoping that Bruce didn’t hear his whole speech.

“Not much.” Bruce looked down at him, “I would’ve let you keep going, but it’s getting late.” He checked his watch before moving a hand behind Tim’s back to guide him, “Time for bed.”

“Okay. I’ll be up in a second, promise.”

“Don’t take too long, the cave gets cold at night, and I’m sure you don’t want to get sick.”

“Okay!”

Once Bruce left, he stepped up on the ledge the display case was seated on.

“I know I’ll never be as good as you or Dick, but I’m gonna try my best, I swear.”

He looked at his reflection, seeing his own face and the battered-up suit merging into one image. He stepped down and pulled out a cookie he managed to smuggle out from under Alfred’s nose out from his pocket and in front of the photo.

“Goodnight Jason.”

Once he was sure he had nothing else to say or do, Tim ran back up to the manor. Bruce was standing at the staircase, waiting for him. Over the past few months, the man had gotten less cold than what he was like a few months ago. However, there were times where he was still distant, sometimes even cold, but at least he wasn’t avoiding Tim like he used to.

“Let’s get you to bed, kiddo.”

He turned towards him with open arms for the kid. Tim happily leaped at him, only to be caught like a football and moved around Bruce’s hip as if he weighed absolutely nothing.

“One day, you’ll have to walk up these stairs yourself.” Bruce chuckled, looking at Tim as he started to walk up the staircase.

“You’d never do that to me.” Tim wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and clung onto him.

“I could, if I wanted to.”

“But you won’t.”

“For now.”

When they got upstairs and to Tim’s room, Bruce set him down and ruffled his hair.

“Make sure all your homework is done. Don’t stay up too late.”

Tim glanced up at him, smiling as he gave a quick nod, “Got it. Can I go on patrol with you tomorrow? Pleaaseee?”

“I’ll think about it. Make sure all your school stuff is done if you want to go.”

“Okay! Goodnight Bruce.”

“Goodnight Tim.”

And with that, Tim slipped into his room and disappeared quietly. Bruce sighed, standing there for a second before walking away. He made it down the stairs and sighed. Alfred stood by the handrail, waiting for him downstairs.

“Ready, sir?”

“Yes. You’re in charge of the house, Alfred.”

“I always am.”

“I suppose you’re right. I’m heading out for the night.”

“Stay safe, Master Bruce.”

Bruce gave him a nod as he walked to the living room, lifting up the head of the Shakespeare bust and pressing the button. He descended down to the Batcave and disappeared for the night.

* * *

It’s been a year since Tim joined the superhero world officially as the third Robin. Everything was going well. He and Batman worked as equals, though sometimes he’d be put on the bench due to schoolwork, illness, etc. but he could understand that. Dick came to visit a lot, checking in on Tim every time he snuck inside the Wayne Manor sometime during the night.

However, he wasn’t at home studying tonight. There was a new threat in town: The Red Hood. He killed criminals, ranging from serial killers to mobsters, and even low life drug dealers. Batman encountered him once, with Nightwing, but Robin wasn’t there that time.

He was on his own too, in the heart of Gotham. They were scouting out a little area of the city where the Hood would allegedly be. They also caught wind of a big arms transaction in the same area, you can put two and two together that the Hood was there with a reason.

Robin hopped down onto the roof of a parking garage, scanning around the top before perching up on the edge. He gazed down at the city, wrapping his own cape around him to block out the wind and to keep him camouflaged with the night.

“So, it is true. Batman found another kid to screw up.”

Tim spun around. The Red Hood appeared under a dim streetlight that kept the roof from being drowned in darkness. He was just staring at him, as if Tim was prey, it was definitely unsettling. Robin hopped up to his feet and pulled out his staff.

“Red Hood.”

“Make this easy for me. Tell me where Batman is, and I won’t have to make you tell me.”

“Why would I do that? I don’t know you, nor do I know what you’re going to do.”

“Don’t be a smartass, kid. He’s just manipulating you anyways.” The man scoffed, “I’m sure you adore him, but it’s all just lies.” He shifted onto one leg as he pulled out a gun, it was a matte gray, and it fit in the man’s hand well, which led Tim to guess that it wasn’t a new one, “One day, he’ll love you like a son, then the next, he won’t even look at you.”

“You don’t know him.”

The Red Hood looked at his gun, clicking the safety off before cocking it. “Oh, I know him too well. Come on kid, let’s see what you’re made of.”

The gun fired at him, and without even thinking, his arm swung his staff up and blocked the bullet.

“Huh. You’re good. But it takes much more than that to impress me.”

Robin moved his staff to his side, staring at the man. He was built similar to Bruce, but less like a box, and he carried himself differently. He put more weight on his right leg than his left, had gun holsters on each side, so he was probably ambidextrous. Unlike Nightwing, the Red Hood looked like he would take a punch rather than dodge it. In conclusion, Tim did not want to see how hard this man could hit.

“I’ll show him. I’ll be the hero this city needs.”

Tim almost snorted, “You sure are doing a great job, you know, killing people.”

“Shut up.” the Red Hood pointed a gun at him again before dashing over. Tim leaped up, used his shoulders as a step and hopped over him. The vigilante turned around and grabbed Robin by the forearm, causing the boy to drop his staff and yelp before he kicked Red Hood’s stomach, getting him to release.

Tim went to swing a punch at him with his left hand, but the Red hood seemed to have known that before he even did, because as soon as he got close, he latched onto Tim’s hand and twisted it around his back. The man pushed him to the ground and nearly stomped a boot down on Robin’s back, holding him down to the concrete floor.

“He always swings with his left arm! Come on kid, do better!”

The pressure was lifted off his body, allowing him to move. However, before he could even get up, a kick sent him flying backwards. He landed on his side, and he was sure he grazed his hip. Robin inched towards his staff on the ground and grabbed it.

“You can’t even fight back! You can’t handle this life, kid!”

“Shut up!”

Tim got up to his feet, glaring at him. He wasn’t going to let this guy get under his skin, Bruce wouldn’t want him to either. He gripped his staff in his hand and spun it around.

“Ooh! Batman showed you baton twirling! You must be real special. What’s next, rain dancing?”

Red Hood ran up to him, ducking when Tim swung his staff at him. The older man reached up and actually stopped the staff, taking it in his own hands and jabbing Robin in the gut with it. He twirled around the staff exactly as Tim had did a second ago, with no effort required. Needless to say, it was a surprise.

“H-how?”

“How? Kid. You’re not the only one he’s messed up.”

The Red Hood dropped the staff and pulled off his helmet. Tim looked up at the man’s face. There were no wrinkles in his skin, nor were there scars. He couldn’t be much older than Tim, possibly in his late teens. There was a white streak of hair that fell in front of his face, contrasting from the raven black that the rest of his hair was colored with. The top half of his face was covered with a red domino mask with a metallic finish. He looked familiar. Too familiar but not familiar enough. As if Tim has seen his face throughout his life, but not enough to memorize the way his eyes crinkle when he scrunches his nose, or the way his mouth twitches when he’s thinking.

“Who are you?” Tim scooted backwards.

“I’m better. Better than you. Better than him!”

Suddenly, Tim hit the ledge. He couldn’t back up further. The all too familiar man walked up and reached down, picking up Tim by the collar and lifting him up with ease, letting him dangle helplessly over the edge. The same ease he was lifted up with was the same as the type Bruce showed whenever he caught Tim in his arms. It was getting uncanny at this point.

“You don’t deserve to be Robin.”

Tim stared the man dead in the eye, spitting on him before lifting his body to kick him away. He instantly regretted that after being dropped, which caused him to fumble over the edge. He caught the ledge at the last moment, just hanging there for a second.

All he remembered was the man under the Red Hood gazing down at him before his hand gave out, sending him falling down dozens of stories. He remembered the stars faintly shining above before a brief numbness engulfed him, followed by a comforting darkness.

He thought he was dead for a quick second.

Reality started to come back to him when a splash of frost coated his entire body. His head throbbed, and his arms and legs ached, but he couldn’t stay down for long. After slowly opening his eyes, his pupils adjusted to the dim light, allowing him to glance around.

He found himself in a nearly empty alley, tucked away behind some trash bins. Tim flexed his fingers, making sure they weren’t numb before he sat up. He looked down at himself and frowned when he noticed that his ‘R’ emblem was torn off, at least he wasn’t hurt. He was about to get up before a familiar voice faintly echoed in his comms.

“Robin. Come in.”

“Batman?”

“Robin. Where have you been? I’ve locked onto your location, but you haven’t been answering for the past 30 minutes.”

“Had a run in with the Red Hood. ‘S okay though. I’m okay.”

“Are you hurt?”

“No. Just a little confused.”

“Stay where you are. I’m coming.”

Once Bruce arrived on the scene, he helped Tim into the Batmobile, despite how Tim insisted he was alright. The ride back to the manor wasn’t bad, but Tim was shivering by the time they arrived back to the cave. Alfred was patiently waiting with towels and a fresh change of clothes folded neatly in his hands.

Tim smiled, taking the pile, “Thank you so much, Alfred.”

“You’re welcome, Master Timothy. I’m glad you escaped unharmed.”

“Me too. I’m gonna change and head upstairs. I’ll see you later!” Tim waved at Bruce and Alfred before dashing away.

Once he was out of earshot, Bruce peeled off his cowl, sighing, “The Red Hood is becoming more of a threat everyday he remains out there.”

“Master Bruce, something tells me you know something the boy does not.”

“I do.” He paused. “Alfred, it’s Jason. He’s back.”


	9. Family Outing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Extra long chapter today! Enjoy!

As months passed, things got better for Batman and Robin.

Ever since they discovered Jason had been revived, they had tried to bring him home. Despite their attempts, however, the Red Hood continued on his lone wolf lifestyle. Dick remained in Blüdhaven most of the time, and only came to stay for a while when on holiday or when Bruce needed help on a case.

“This has been the best meal I’ve had in weeks.” Dick said from behind him. Bruce looked back, the boy was back in Gotham due to Poison Ivy acting up recently, and they had their suspicions that she was planning something big. Dick wore a dark gray sweater with black jeans and royal blue converse; his watch glowed a slight green on the notches and on the hands, barely noticeable in the dim light there was in the sides of the cave. The boy was leaning on one of the flat walls of the caves, eating some leftover cold pasta Alfred had made the night before.

“That’s a little concerning. You should take care of yourself; you know how to cook.” He frowned slightly, glancing over at his son before setting his focus back on the screen of their supercomputer, leaning on the desk with his arms.

“I do. But there’s nothing better than Alfred’s food.”

“You should’ve heated it up.”

“Nah. This is fine.” Dick took a plastic fork-full of pasta and stuck it in his mouth, humming before he walked over. He peeked over Bruce’s shoulder and studied the map of Gotham, which had red dots where Ivy, and the people she associated with, had been recently spotted at. There were bunches of dots around the heart of Gotham, more specifically around central park._ I should’ve guessed_, he thought to himself.

“We’ll leave for patrol at eight.” Bruce pushed off the desk, walking away and stretching slightly, cracking his knuckles.

“Coolio; I’m going to my room. I have soap operas waiting for me.”

Bruce nodded. He watched as Dick got off the wall, still eating his pasta. On his way out, Bruce noticed him glance at Jason’s old suit, taking a second to look at it before continuing to the door.

He sighed. He could stay down in the cave, but Tim would be home any second, so maybe he should go upstairs to greet him. That’s usually what he did anyways, so why not.

Once he came back to the manor, he saw Alfred dusting some of the photos on the walls.

“Hey, Alfred.”

“Hello, Master Bruce. How are you today?”

“Good. Tim, Dick and I have a big mission tonight. Ivy’s acting up again, so keep the antidotes we have on standby, just in case.”

“Noted, would you like me to keep anything else out?”

“I can’t really think of anything, thank you, Alfred.”

“You’re welcome.” Alfred nodded and went back to dusting quietly.

Tim came through the door at that moment, glancing around the room before waving to Bruce, taking out an earbud.

“Hey.”

“Hey, kiddo. How was school?”

The question made Tim sigh and shake his head, “You know. The same. I don’t have that much homework today, so that’s good.”

“Yeah, that is good. Dick’s home. He got here while you were out.”

“Where is he?”

“Upstairs, watching Telemundo, probably.”

Tim chuckled, “Probably.” He said, giving Bruce a small hug before high fiving Alfred and quickly ascending the stairs. Bruce knew exactly when Tim encountered Dick due to the fact that he heard some of Dick’s laughter accompanied by muffled yelling, presumably from Tim because Dick had a habit of picking up anyone smaller, and sometimes even bigger, than him, despite if they want it or not.

Bruce shook his head and huffed, “What am I going to do with them, Alfred.”

“Make sure they do not kill each other.”

“That’s wise. I’m sure they’ll be fine. I’m heading to the cave, feel free to get me if you need anything.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Master Bruce.”

And with that, Bruce left to go back down to the Batcave. He spent a few hours preparing for tonight, collecting as much information as he could about Ivy’s recent activity and patterns. Dick came down and brought him some dinner, which was grilled chicken with a variety of vegetables, it tasted great, as usual.

Eight o’ clock came around quickly, and Bruce was walking to his suit when he heard Dick and Tim racing down the stairs. There was laughter, then the slide of fabric on metal and when Bruce turned to look for the noise, he saw Dick gliding down the handrail as fast as a bullet, only to hop off last second and land in a roll.

“I win!”

Tim came nearly sprinting down the stairs, skipping the last four steps by jumping down, “No fair!”

“How’s it not fair?”

“…You have longer legs!”

“I’m surrounded by children.” Bruce shook his head, reaching up and rubbing his temples lightly. Dick chuckled, hopping to his feet gracefully and taking a second to stretch before walking over.

“You love us.” He said in a sing-song tone as he grabbed his Nightwing suit from the spare suit closet. They always had a few versions of the suits lying around, just in case. Tim ran to his own suit, taking it off the stand and running to change.

Once they were all dressed in their suits, they grouped up in the center of the cave. Nightwing’s suit was one of his more tactical variations, with more armor on his elbows, knees and chest, restricting some of the movement he’d normally have with his normal suit, but it allowed more protection. Tim had on his normal suit, fidgeting with his cape just a bit while he stood idly. Bruce turned to the computer, holding his cowl in one hand as he used the other to zoom in on Ivy’s recent activity.

“We’ll just have to patrol central park for now. Take your gas masks.” Bruce turned to his two kids before walking to an equipment cabinet and bringing out some gear that would help block out any pheromones they might run into tonight.

“Robin, you must stay close. If you get separated, find Nightwing. Nightwing, don’t push your limits; Poison Ivy is sly, we cannot lose her tonight.”

The two nodded, exchanging glances at each other before putting on the finishing touches of their suits, like stocking up on batarangs or retouching the edges of their domino masks with spirit gum.

Bruce pulled the cowl over his face and snapped on his utility belt as he walked to the Batmobile, unlocking the doors and sliding in with ease. Robin joined him a second later, closing the door behind him and watching out the window as Nightwing climbed onto the Batcycle.

They all headed out of the Batcave together, with Batman leading while Nightwing followed behind on the motorcycle. It took approximately half an hour to get to central park, and an additional ten minutes to scout out a place to hide both of their vehicles. They settled on a little nook in an alley that seemed like no one would wander in.

Nightwing hopped off his motorcycle, doing some last-minute warmups as Batman and Robin stepped out from the Batmobile.

“Are you two ready? Cause I am.” He said, putting on Wayne Enterprises’ version of a compact gas mask. It was like a smooth plastic face guard, but it had a filter right in front of the mouth and nose, and it was secured around the head by two straps that were bucked in the back. Robin followed, locking the mask on, and finally, Batman joined them, except his attached to the cowl.

“I would call these functional, _not_ fashionable.” Nightwing said through the comms, his voice slightly muffled due to the mask.

“I agree, these do look kinda dumb.” Robin sighed, pulling out his staff as he scanned the area around them.

“They’ll keep you safe. Let’s get going, no more joking around.” Batman passed them, slipping into the shadows of the alley and up the fire escape of a building. Nightwing sighed, rolling his eyes before following him, with Robin not too far behind.

Once they got up to the rooftop, they looked out onto central park. Nothing seemed abnormal so far. There were only a few cars passing by on the roads surrounding the park. Both Robin and Nightwing perched on the ledge while Batman watched from behind, standing a few feet back.

“I bet five dollars that we’ll be here for hours.” Robin glanced up at Nightwing, sitting down and letting his feet dangle off the edge of the roof.

“I bet ten dollars we’ll drive Batman nuts by the end of the night.”

“You already have. Pay attention.”

“We are!” The two said in sync, looking at each other with a surprised smile. “Jinx!”

“I can’t believe you two.”

“Hey! I heard something.” Nightwing shrunk down to hide himself.

Robin followed his example, crouching down and covering himself with the black side of his cape to blend in with the night. Batman looked over the two and out onto the park. There was definitely a sound coming from the park, a low crunching noise that echoed all the way to the building they were standing on. Batman narrowed his eyes, trying to find the source of the sound, his search stopping when he saw branches crawling in the grass and slithering up the trees.

“Take her down. Robin, stay close. Keep your masks on, no matter what.”

“Understood.” Nightwing nodded before jumping off the roof and using his grappling gun to swing to the park. Robin glanced back at Batman, patiently waiting for him to lead.

“Ivy’s definitely here. And She isn’t looking too happy.” Nightwing said over the comms, the sound of vines snapping in the background.

“We’re coming.” Batman replied calmly before leaping off the building. He heard Robin’s grappling gun shoot out from behind him. The two swung into the park, landing on their feet with little to no effort. The branches continued to cover ground, breaching up from the ground and slithering to the heart of the park, where they covered up the fountain and kept growing up into the air, forming a condensed ball.

Batman could see Nightwing on the opposite side of the park, slashing branches away from his feet and legs with a sharpened batarang. Robin tried to step over the branches but ended up in the same situation as his older brother, but instead of using batarangs, he was jabbing at the branches with his bo staff. Once the twigs started to grow up Batman’s leg, he used the fins on his gauntlets to break free.

“My my, what do we have here? It seems like my vines have caught something.”

Batman glanced up. Poison Ivy came out of the ball of plants, elegantly stepping down on the infested grass. She looked over at Nightwing first, then to Batman, and finally Robin.

“The harvest is quite bountiful this season, huh?” She smirked, walking over to Nightwing gracefully. The vines around him snaked up to his neck and locked him in place. Ivy lifted his head up by his chin, tapping lightly at the mask.

“Hm. What’s this? A gas mask? How boring.” She hummed, moving to rip it off his face. Nightwing pulled back, glaring up at her.

“Buy me dinner first.” He told her, staring her in the eye with no fear, no anticipation, just pure snark. Typical for Nightwing, who was known for never shutting up, ever.

“Oh, I’ll do much more than that, sweet cheeks.” She purred, winking before grabbing his face again.

“Leave him alone!” Robin yelled from across the park, getting her attention. Ivy gazed over, eyes narrowing as she pushed Nightwing’s face away and started walking over.

Batman struggled against the branch restraints around his arms, using the fins on his arms to cut through twigs. It seemed to help, but every time a branch snapped, another one grew, and it would be even stronger.

“Looks like our little birdie has something to say.” She stood in front of Robin. She moved to rip off his gasmask before there was a sudden **_boom_ **that echoed from the center of the park, leaving the ground shaking for a second.

“Looks like we need to call a gardener!”

Batman turned towards the voice and saw the Red Hood standing next to the fountain of branches. The ball sitting on top of it was now blown to pieces. Nightwing was free from his twig cage, standing beside the vigilante.

“What have you done?!” Ivy growled, focusing all her attention on Red Hood and her now blown up capsule of plants that excreted some purple gas. Batman watched her carefully, and he was even able to tell the exact moment when she accessed the situation due to the smile spread on her face, “You have no idea what you’ve done! Now my pheromones will spread around Gotham, thanks to you! She laughed.

Nightwing had run to Batman’s side, helping to set him free before racing to Robin. Red hood whipped out his guns and started to shoot at Ivy, who shielded herself with huge plants that sprouted up from the ground and protected her.

The purple fog seemed to keep low to the ground and did not hesitate to surround them. Nightwing and Robin moved to the side, helping any scattered pedestrians run away before the fog got to them while Batman and Red hood chased after Ivy.

“Watch out!”

Batman ducked, looking up to see a giant vine that would’ve incapacitated him if Red Hood did not warn him. Speaking of the Hood, he was no where in sight. He looked around for the vigilante before he saw a red flash be thrown across the street by a long vine.

“Hood!” He yelled, making sure he was moving before throwing an exploding batarang at the bundle of the vines, using his cape as a shield once it exploded.

“Hey, uh, Batman? Little help here would be great!”

He looked up and spotted Ivy. She was standing on one of her vines that grew up into the air, and in front of her was Robin, dangling in the air with branches wrapped around his arms and torso. Below them, Nightwing was climbing his way up there, hopping vine to vine while evading the ones that were trying to grab at him.

“On my way.”

Watching the vines slither up into the air, he waited for one to rise next to him before catching a ride on one of the branches. He was able to get about halfway before he had to switch to another branch.

By the time he had got to the three, Both Nightwing and Robin were being squeezed by Ivy’s vines. She moved over and pulled off their masks, letting the gear fall to the ground before opening her palms and blowing pheromones in the two’s faces.

“No!” Batman used his grappling gun to move faster, being able to swing up and punch her. The vines holding Nightwing and Robin released them. He was about to catch Nightwing’s hand, but his fingers slipped.

“I got them!” Red Hood called out from the branches below, grabbing Robin with his arms, setting him aside quickly before snatching Nightwing by the collar of his suit before he could fall any further.

Batman turned his attention back onto ivy, ducking and rolling out of the way of any vines ready to stop him. He threw some of his exploding batarangs at the base of some branches that blocked the way to Ivy.

* * *

Capturing Ivy wasn’t as hard as getting to her. The pheromones would disperse in the air, to the point where they shouldn’t cause more than a little dizziness. Batman kept a mental note to make some batarangs that excreted weed killer for the next time she escaped Arkham.

He glanced around for any sign of Red Hood, Nightwing or Robin, but couldn’t find anything.

“Robin, Nightwing? Red Hood, are you online?”

“I’m here. Robin and Nightwing are safe, a little out of it, but safe. We’re in one of my safehouses. Sending the address now.”

Batman waited for it to send through before ditching the crime scene, leaving it to Gordan and the rest of the GCPD, driving over there in the Batmobile.

He arrived at an apartment complex in a matter of minutes. There was graffiti all over the side, and there was no one standing in or around the place. Instead of walking through the lobby however, he decided to take the fire escape. Luckily, he didn’t have to guess which apartment it was because Jason was just casually sitting outside, smoking a cigarette while still wearing his Red Hood suit, minus the helmet.

“Hey.”

“Where are-“

“They’re inside. You’re welcome.”

Bruce pulled off his cowl, seeing that Jason didn’t seem worried about anyone seeing them. He moved to slip though the window of the apartment, but stopped, putting a hand on Jason’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Jason, I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” The boy shrugged it off, taking a long drag from his cigarette and puffing out the smoke. Bruce knew he should say something about how bad smoking was for his health but decided Jason wouldn’t be in the mood to listen, and probably just blow him off.

He stepped inside the apartment, looking around for Dick or Tim. The living room was nearly empty, the only furniture being a light tan couch and a tv, which was playing the local news on a barely audible setting.

“Check the bedrooms.” Jason called, glancing over his shoulder at him.

“Thanks.”

He walked into the hallway, where there were three doors, two were open, which led Bruce to believe that Dick and Tim were in their own rooms, it’d be easier for him to manage.

Going through the door on the left, he scanned around the room. He assumed this was Jason’s room due to stack of books that looked brand new on the worn-down dresser. Dick was laid on the bed, still in his Nightwing suit but without his mask.

“…B?” Dick muttered, coughing.

“I’m here. How are you feeling?”

“Out of it. Jason gave me some antidote…I’m still coming down.”

Bruce nodded, walking over and sitting down on the bed next to Dick, “Want to come back to the manor?”

“Asked Jay if I could stay, he said yeah… I’m gonna take the offer. Don’t know when the next time he’s gonna let me do that, might as well take advantage of it.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go see Tim, okay?”

Dick looked up at him, his pupils blown and his forehead glistening with slight sweat. Bruce pushed the hair away from his face, sighing.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Got some sleep chum, you need it. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Bruce nodded, patting him on the shoulder before leaving the room, making sure to turn off the light on his way out. Tim’s door was on the opposite side of the hallway, and it was open almost all the way, dim light shining into the hall. He walked in, finding Tim to be asleep under two layers of blankets.

With a slight smile, he picked up the kid carefully and wrapped his own cape around Tim to keep him warm.

Jason had moved inside since the last time he saw him, ditching the cigarette for a book. He even put on the hoodie that was resting on the couch when he first came in.

“Thank you for taking care of your brothers.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Jason.”

“Yeah?”

“You can come back to the manor, anytime you want.”

“…I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Goodnight, Jay.”

“Goodnight.”

He pulled Jason in for a slightly awkward one-arm hug because he still had an unconscious Robin in his arms. After that, he walked back over to the window and moved the curtains out of the way, readjusting his grip on Tim before pulling his cowl back on. Knowing Jason’s eyes were lingering on him, he slipped into the night, and back to the Batmobile.

He stayed up that night pacing around the Batcave, replaying the words left unspoken in his head while he made sure Tim had nothing left in his system.


	10. Cigarette Smoke

Jason watched Bruce slip down the fire escapes and down the buildings with ease. He moved like a shadow, even with Tim resting in his arms, all his movements were fluid, and intentional; Or at least, it seemed that way. In the dim moon light, it was almost hard to keep track of the Batman, the only reason his eyes were able to follow him was because they had been taught to during the many late nights on patrol where Jason couldn’t see very well. They knew where to look, and what to look for, something Jason was sure Dick and Tim were educated in too.

He waited for Bruce to completely disappear into Gotham’s shadows before shutting the window, leaving the curtains open so that whatever light that shone from the moon could come in. As he got his apartment ready for his nighttime routine, he heard some footsteps coming from the hallway, sluggish, yet light and careful, _trained_.

“Dick, you should be asleep.” Jason looked over his shoulder to see him at first, crossing his arms and then turning to face him.

“Okay, mom.” The man chuckled, “You should be in bed too.”

“Last time I checked, you were taking up my whole bed.”

“Only because it was offered.” Dick walked over, hopping onto the couch and bringing his knees up to his chest, moving into the corner.

“You should take your suit off, kevlar isn’t the best thing to sleep in.”

“You’re acting like Bruce. God, Jay, who knew you could be such a mom-friend.”

“Shut it, Dick. I’m sure I have spare clothes in the guest room.”

“I’ll change later.” Dick stretched out. Jason looked over him quickly, scanning Dick for any symptoms of a bad reaction to the antidote he gave him earlier while he had the chance. His usually tan skin was still a few shades lighter than normal, but it was much better than it was before he administered a cure. Dick’s pupils still took up most of his clear blue irises, but his scleras weren’t bloodshot anymore. He was still coming down from the pheromones, that much was obvious. At least his breathing seemed normal, maybe a bit deep, but Jason guessed that was because he might be tired.

“Dude, earth to Jason?”

“Huh?”

“I was asking if you wanted to keep watching the news, or if you wanted to watch a movie.”

“We can watch a movie, right after you change. If you fall asleep, I am not changing you dude.”

Dick rose his hands with a chuckle, “Alright, alright, I’m going.” He pushed himself off the couch and walked back into the hallway, and then into the spare room.

Jason flopped onto the couch and sighed, taking the remote and turning up the volume of the T.V. Flicking through the channels, he searched for any remotely entertaining movie. It only took a few minutes for Dick to return, stumbling into the room, dressed in loose white long-sleeved shirt and blue plaid sweatpants, plus some socks that had small silhouettes of giraffes printed across them.

“Really? Giraffes.”

“Hey. Giraffes are cool.”

“Sure.”

“Have you found a movie?”

“Nope.”

“Do you have Netflix?”

“Nope.”

“Do you want Netflix?”

“I mean, sure.”

Jason passed him the remote and watched as Dick switched the settings and went onto the app with ease. He logged into Bruce’s account, and there appeared four different icons. Bruce’s was a cartoon man’s face in a red cowl, staring straight ahead with the look of pure justice on his face; Dick’s was a cute panda face and Tim’s was a funky-looking robot while Alfred’s was simply the iconic, slightly psychotic, smiley face.

“Why do all of those fit perfectly.” Jason huffed, shaking his head.

Dick shrugged, sinking more into his corner of the couch comfortably before logging on as himself. “So, what are you in the mood for?”

“I don’t know. Something that won’t bore me to death.” Jason sighed. He watched as Dick scrolled through Netflix, reading the summaries and titles as fast as he could.

“How about Bolt? I never got the chance to watch it when I was a kid.” Dick looked over.

“Oh come on, that’s a kid’s movie-“

Dick stared at him, the edges of his lips twisting down into a sad pout.

“Dude. You are **not **looking at me with puppy eyes.”

Silence.

“Fine, we can watch fucking Bolt, but if I get bored for even half a damn second, we’re watching Dateline.”

“Deal!”

Dick selected the movie and shuffled around on his side of the couch, tossing the remote over to his brother’s side of the couch. Jason glanced over and saw him nearly scrunched up in a ball.

“Hold on.” Jason got up and went to his room, grabbing his 2nd favorite blanket (Yes, he has a favorite blanket, and no, he is not trusting Dick with it.) before bringing it out and tossing it over his older brother.

“Aww, you do care.”

“I’m only doing this because you got drugged tonight. You’re still a little loopy too.”

“Sure am.” Dick chuckled, directing his attention back to the film.

Jason shifted on the couch, leaning on the arm and stealing some of the blanket for his legs. Dick went almost silent, a rare sight, as the movie played. Jason kept a mental note of that for the next time he wanted him to shut up.

It didn’t take long for the two to get fully invested in the movie. Other than a few sarcastic comments scattered here and there, the duo were quiet and paying attention to the plot, some inconsistencies (that Jason pointed out) and the funny banter made in the scenes.

Jason paused the movie 2/3rds of the way in to grab some water, glancing over to find out that Dick had fallen asleep, sprawled out restfully. He sighed, placing the backside of his hand to Dick’s head. He was warm, but not hot. It gave him one less thing to worry about.

“Thank fuck.” He muttered under his breath.

He stood over him for a second before reaching under his brother’s back and legs, similar to how Bruce held Tim earlier in the night. Carrying him to the guest room bed, he made sure not to wake the resting acrobat, mostly because it’d be just a little awkward, and Jason still had a reputation to keep. After he placed him in the bed, he tossed the sheets over Dick, sighing.

“You owe me. Big time.”

Dick shuffled around on the bed in response. Jason shook his head, walking to the door after turning off all the lights in the room. Other than the light coming in the hallway, the room was pitch black, just how Dick liked it. Jason found it slightly weird that his siblings preferred to sleep in a room engulfed by darkness, but hey, to each their own. Personally, he had to have some light in his room, whether it be from outside or from the hallway. Whenever he did try to sleep in the pure darkness, it made him uneasy. It reminded him of his grave, the one he should still be buried in. If Dick and Tim wanted to sleep like vampires, that’s cool, as long as it didn’t involve him.

With Dick taken care of and asleep, Jason figured he had some free time on his hands. He popped in his room for a second and changed into his normal sleepwear: a hoodie and sweats. On his way out, he grabbed a book off his dresser, _The Prince by Niccolò Machiavelli. _

Returning to the living room, he lowered the volume on the TV and turned on the floor lamp before hopping back on the couch. He kept the moving playing in the background as he began to read. Usually, whenever he had some free time during the day, he’d stop by the antique bookstore, run by this older couple, Martin and Gladys Finch, and buy a couple books. He’s visited so much at this point that he and the owners are on a first name basis, and based on what he’s bought before, the two would help him pick out good reads.

By the time he decided he was finished for the night, he looked around and found a scrap piece of paper, folding it up and using it as a bookmark before setting the book aside. Jason glanced at the clock, _1am_. He’s stayed up longer, but with all the excitement from earlier, he was a little more drained than usual.

He hadn’t even checked his own wounds after the fight with Ivy. Thanks to his helmet, he avoided being on the receiving end of a concussion after he was thrown in a wall. However, his side ached and shoulder throbbed.

After he turned everything off in the living room, he went to the bathroom, flicking on the light switch and pulling his hoodie up and off his body.

Thanks to the effects of the Lazarus Pit, his wounds healed just a fraction faster than normal. It wasn’t enough to be considered a superpower, but it was definitely noticeable to him at least. On his torso, there were a few darkening bruises around his sides, which explained the aching. On his wrists and lower forearm, there were a few cuts from the vines, but they should vanish in a matter of days, leaving no trace of them being there.

When he checked over Dick earlier, he found that his brother was heavily bruised around his ribs, possibly from the vines constricting him. The pheromones he inhaled weren’t aphrodisiacs, _thank god_, but they did make him hallucinate. When he was able to access Tim and Dick’s symptoms on the way to his safehouse, they both were completely gone, speaking to people who weren’t there (or weren’t alive, in Dick’s case) and staring unfocused at somewhere beyond Jason.

Lucky for them, Jason always kept antidotes for Ivy’s pheromones in all his safehouses. Sure, he didn’t have that many run-ins with her, but it was always good to be prepared. He asked Dick to bring some antidote from the Batcave for him a while back, and when he got his hands on it, he was able to figure out the formula and duplicate it.

Once he concluded that he was okay to sleep, he tugged his hoodie back on and walked to his room. There was still a dent in the blankets where Dick had laid, but the sheets were cool, just as he liked it. He closed the curtains almost all the way, leaving a slit so the light could shine through and disperse around. He made sure he’d done everything he needed to before hopping onto his bed, wrapping himself in the sheets and blanket before closing his eyes.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be haunted by nightmares and memories while he tried to sleep.

* * *

_Dirt was the first thing he felt on his skin. Dirt spilling onto his body. Dirt filling his lungs, despite how much he coughed and choked and dirt starting to get in his eyes. He pushed up, feeling wood crack from underneath him and eventually break, creating a way to escape whatever earthy cage he was stuck in. Clawing his way upwards, he swam in the darkness. He felt cold, his body ached but he kept pushing through, reaching for something, anything. It seemed as if he had been digging up for hours, days, weeks, but finally, his hand broke through grass, feeling rain patter against his skin and fresh air for the first time in what felt like eternity. He got his head out from the dirt and coughed up soil until he could breathe properly. Once half of his body was out of the grave, he let himself fall over and process how much pain he was in. His thoughts were in scrambles, the overwhelming sharp pains in his lungs not helping at all. Through the fog in his head, he was able to come up with one word._

_Run._

_He needed to get away. No time to think. He’s in danger. The last thing he remembered was pain, laughter, and the cold, he was definitely not safe. Without much thought, he shakily got up and ran. He had nowhere to go, he didn’t know where he was and what was day it was anymore. He just kept running, feeling rain drench whatever clothes he had on. Even if he felt like he was freezing to death, he had to keep running._

_So, he did. He kept sprinting to some unknown destination, ignoring the pain flaring up in his chest and the burning in his legs. Jason made it out to a clearing, where he was able to gain just a little clarity. Just as his brain started to come back online, he noticed two very bright lights approaching._

_A car._

* * *

Jason woke up with a start, sitting up much faster than he should. Though he knew it was coming. the blood rush hit him a lot faster than expected, and he had to put a hand down to make sure he wouldn’t fall over. After his head eventually stopped swimming, he swung his legs off the side of the bed and stood up slowly.

The room was mostly lit by natural light, the slightly opened curtains allowing a streak of sunlight to divide the room. Jason wiped the sleep from his eyes before moving to his dresser, grabbing a fresh change of clothes.

Once he was semi-ready for the day, he walked out his room. The apartment lacked good heating, and with fall settling in Gotham, it was wise for Jason to start stocking up on fuzzy socks, good blankets and turtlenecks. Even with the t-shirt, jeans and hoodie he was wearing, he was still a little chilly.

His stomach growled. _God, I could really go for some of Alfred’s cooking right now_, he thought. Walking to the kitchen, he plugged in his toaster (one of the only extra appliances he had) and reached for the bag of bread sitting on the counter.

After he put two slices from the loaf in the toaster and set the timer, he moved in front of the TV and turned it on, setting it to some channel just for background noise. He tried to tidy up the place while he waited for his breakfast to heat up.

Just after he put some books away, the toaster _dinged_ and out popped his food. Jason walked back to the toaster and unplugged it, the outlet was a little finicky sometimes, which is why he always kept it unplugged when not in use. Dumping the toast onto a small plate, he grabbed a bottle of water and sauntered to the couch, falling back into the cushions.

He was able to watch TV quietly for a little bit before Dick came stumbling sleepily down the hallway.

“About time, Sleeping Beauty. I was about to call your Prince Charming.”

“And who would that be?” Dick almost croaked, voice heavily laced with sleep as he sauntered over, practically throwing himself onto the couch.

“Kory. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind flying over.”

“I’m sure. I texted Bruce that I’m alive.”

“That’s good. How do you feel?”

“Hungover. In need of a little Advil; Not that bad overall.”

“Hm. That’s good. When do you think you’re going to head back to Blüdhaven?”

“In a few days, I guess. I could stay just a little while longer if needed.” Dick nodded, putting his hands behind his head and sighing.

“Cool.”

“So.” Dick clapped his hands together, “What’s on the menu?”

“Toast, but you have to make it yourself.” Jason huffed before taking a big bite of his own toast and looking at him.

“Got it.” Dick somehow jumped straight into the air, landing on his feet before walking to the kitchen, eyeing the set up. Jason just looked back to the T.V and watched the local news.

* * *

The day went by quietly, the two mostly watching movies and describing the cases and missions they were on and current on-going ones. Dick seemed to get back to his normal state as the day progressed, the color returning to his cheeks and his energy levels came back to normal.

Now, they were eating a pizza Jason had ordered earlier. It was around seven o’ clock, and the sun had just set. Dick and Jason sat outside, on the fire escape. There was no small talk, but the two of them were comfortable with the silence, because 1) they’re brothers and 2) they lived with Bruce Wayne, who is arguably the quietest person in the universe. Jason pulled out a box of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket after he set his plate aside, “Want one?”

Dick shook his head, “Dad wouldn’t want me to, thanks though.”

Jason laughed softly, looking up at his brother, “Who cares what Bruce says. Do **_you_** want one, or no?”

Dick paused, and Jason swore he could see him thinking through the look in his eyes.

“Sure.”

Jason stuck a cigarette in his mouth and lit it quickly before passing Dick the box. He watched as his brother picked out a cigarette with care before placing it in between his lips, waiting for his turn with the lighter before lighting it on the first try.

Jason sucked in and puffed out smoke while Dick coughed trying. They eventually forgot about what leftover pizza they had on their plates, ditching the food for cigarette smoke while they took pauses to talk.

They seemed too busy with smoking and small talk to notice the shadowy figure approaching from above. All of the sudden, the boys were looking up at Batman, who had hopped down onto the fire escape in front of them. He looked furious, more so than usual. His glare passed over Jason and landed on Dick.

“We’re going home. Get suited up. Now.” He ordered.

Dick hopped up in an instant, putting out the cigarette and setting it in the ashtray Jason had on the window ledge before crawling inside. Batman waited for Dick to leave before shooting his scowl at Jason. On instinct, Jason almost shrunk back, but fought against it, and stared back at him.

“Jason, I am very disappointed in-“

“I don’t want to hear it today.”

“Jason.”

“Batman.” He looked up at him with big eyes, batting whatever lashes he had at him innocently while taking a drag from his cigarette and blowing it in the Dark Knight’s face.

“You’re acting like a child.”

“I am like, nineteen, you know. You should keep better track of your kids.” Jason shoved his free hand in his pocket.

“Do not go there.”

“All this over your prized son smoking? You didn’t give a shit over me smoking last night.”

“You wouldn’t listen to me.”

“I still won’t listen.”

“Do we always have to fight?”

“It seems so. Maybe if you didn’t spend all your time treating me like just a coworker then I’d give a fuck.”

Silence.

“You know it’s true.”

He felt something start to boil inside. His pocketed hand curled into a fist, and his upper lip twitched irritably.

“I-“

“No, Bruce. Tell me. When you look at me, do you see your son, or just some colleague?”

Batman looked surprised by the sudden question, something that was rarely seen.

“Well?”

The Caped Crusader took a breath, looking him in the eyes, “I see Jason Todd, my son and a great partner... He’s stronger than anyone I know and though he’s been through much more than anyone his age should, he keeps true to himself. He may not be my favorite student at times, but that doesn’t make him my least favorite son.” He saw Bruce almost tense up at what he was saying, as if he was nervous to admit it, “Jason Todd is someone I can’t lose. Not again.”

Now he was at a loss for words, _great_.

His cigarette slipped from his fingers and landed right next to the ash tray, the last puffs of smoke leaving his mouth.

“I can’t control you Jason, but I do want the best for you, even if that means you get mad at me.”

Just then, Dick appeared, dressed in his Nightwing suit and mask. He slipped through the window and past Jason.

“Get some rest.” Bruce looked at him before nodding for Dick to leave. Nightwing shot out his grappling gun and swung away. Jason and Bruce shared a look before Batman turned and followed his oldest son away into the night.

Jason, still at a loss for words, sat there for a moment and processed what Bruce had said to him. A part of himself told him it was all a lie, something Bruce said just to keep him from going to the dark side, yet another side had the feeling he was actually being genuine. He felt conflicted.

There’s nothing an impromptu patrol can’t fix.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for reading! I have a question before you go, though. For Halloween, would you like me to post a themed chapter at the end as a bonus, or would you like me to post a separate one-shot on Halloween? I really love reading your comments, they mean so much to me and inspire me to keep writing!


	11. Selective Bonding

Of all his kids, his actual biological one was definitely the most difficult. When Damian first arrived at the Wayne manor, he was spoiled, aggressive and demanding, hostile to anyone that dared to look his way. Tim was very transparent with his opinion on the kid, and Jason had to be held back so he wouldn’t punch an actual twelve-year-old. Dick was the one, if not the only, of his children to be patient and understanding with Damian. Even though the boy could be frustrating at times, Dick would suppress his annoyance to work with him, which proved to be a very respectable feat. Bruce knew that Dick was his son in many ways, but to have the patience and determination the twenty-two-year-old had, Alfred made several comments of their similarities.

It was around midday and the Wayne manor was quiet, as per usual. The only sounds coming from the birds outside or clicking of the grandfather clocks they had standing near the walls. Bruce walked down the hallways, looking for something to do. That’s all he did during the days he had off, he tried to find something to keep his mind and body busy. However, there wasn’t much, besides chess. As Bruce walked past the training area, he heard a series of several thuds, which was finished off quickly with a slightly pained grunt.

“Okay, Damian, I know that you’re probably just venting some pent of emotions through your fighting, but that **_hurt_**.”

He peeked through the slightly opened door to see his eldest and youngest on the mats. Dick was kneeling down on the floor, holding his upper arm before hopping to his feet. Damian clicked his tongue, crossing his arms defiantly.

“it’s not my fault that you cannot block a simple punch, Grayson.”

“Huh, fair enough. Come on, again.”

Bruce watched as Dick shook whatever discomfort he was in to get back into a ready position. Damian lunged at him with trained precision and accuracy, and he would have landed on top of him if Dick hadn’t rolled out of danger.

“What will you do if your enemy is faster than you?” Dick called out to the kid, dodging a punch from him before grabbing Damian’s arm and gently tossing him away.

“Be faster!” Damian landed on his feet and charged at him again, managing to kick the back of Dick’s knee. The acrobat fell, then tumbled to the ground, turning onto his back to kick the younger boy away.

Bruce watched as the two went back and forth for a while, until Dick deemed them both done for the day. When Damian tried to start sparring again, Dick grabbed his arms, twisted them and pushed him to the ground.

“I said, we’re done.”

“Whatever. You got lucky, Grayson.”

“Guess so.”

Bruce left before the two could notice him. It was nice to know that Damian had someone who’d willingly train with him, because last time Tim tried to spar with Damian, Bruce had to keep the two in opposite ends of the manor for a week. Even though Dick only came every now and then, Bruce knew that it was beneficial that Damian has a chance to talk with people who 1) aren’t Batman and 2) are a little closer to his age.

He walked downstairs to the Batcave, sighing before sitting down at the computer. It was the late afternoon, but there were no meetings or anything to keep Bruce from being bored. He logged onto the computer and looked for possible mission or at least something for him to do.

After maybe a few hours or so, he heard footsteps coming down from the stairs. They sounded firm, yet were as light as feather, as if the owner danced while they walked.

“Do you need something, Dick?”

“No. Just wanted to make sure you aren’t brooding.”

He shook his head, “I’m not brooding, just bored.” His eyes darted across a map of Gotham, searching for any signs of the Rogues’ work.

“I saw you watching us earlier.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dick crossed his arms. “You can’t lie to me, B.”

_He could_, a part of himself said. The thought made him feel a little sick that he could just simply lie through his teeth to his eldest son. However, just because he **_could_** doesn’t mean he **_should_**, or **_would_**.

“Alright, I did watch you and Damian spar for a few minutes. He’s improving a lot.”

Dick huffed, crossing his arm as he shifted his weight onto one foot, “He’s already really good Bruce. What else can he improve on?”

“Getting along with you, Dick.”

“Yeah I’d say he’s getting better at not making enemies-“

“I mean, he’s warming up to you, specifically you.”

“Huh. I mean, he doesn’t try to stab me anymore. That’s an improvement. I don’t see why it’s important for me to get along with him.” The boy sighed, shaking his head with a carefree smile, “I love the kid, don’t get me wrong, but why is Damian’s relationship with me special?”

“Because Dick.” He sighed, turning the whole chair towards him, “One day, Bruce Wayne won’t be around forever, especially with our kind of lifestyle. There has to be someone to take up the cowl.”

“Bruce, don’t-“

“I want it to be you. There’s no one else I can imagine as Batman. And every Batman has a Robin. If I go, you and Damian have to work together, as family, not just partners.”

Dick looked at him, a hint of shock in his face. Nowadays, their conversations usually got to this topic, no matter the circumstance. It was unnerving, talking about the death of Bruce Wayne and the legacy of Batman. The young man’s stance had completely changed, instead of leaning on one side, he was standing straight, fully attentive of that the elder was saying.

“Sit down, chum.”

Dick obeyed his request quietly, pulling over a chair and sitting down on the chair backwards, resting his arms on the back of the seat.

“I know you don’t like talking about this. You’ve proven to be a great leader, and an even better brother. You’re compassionate, strong and disciplined. I think you’re the perfect role model for Damian, truly.”

“Gee, Bruce. If I wanted some compliments I would’ve just gone to a club.” Dick tried to lighten the mood a bit, scratching at the back of his head.

“When Damian’s ready, I want him to go out on a few missions with you. I know you could teach him things that I could never.”

“Bruce, I don’t know what to say.”

“You say, ‘Okay’. And when the time comes, you’ll figure out how to handle things, you always do.” Bruce stood up, patting Dick on the shoulder before passing him to walk to his suits, “I’m going out, I got a lead on something earlier.”

“Alright. Well, I-uh I’ll be here.”

* * *

Damian watched them from the stairs, standing up once he felt like he had heard enough. However, before he could sneak away from the cave entirely, someone stopped him.

“Damian, I know you’re up there. Come down here.”

He cursed to himself before walking the rest of the way down the stairs. Dick was watching him approach, but it wasn’t a cautious stare, it seemed as if Dick was looking at him in an entirely different way. His eyes shone with a hidden fire, one that was fueled by a compassion, not a rage, or anger. Damian rarely saw Dick act upon his fury, and even if he did, it was always controlled, like a monitored fire, burning down old trees to make room for fresh ones. Despite the piercing emotions behind his eyes, the blue always cleared it up, like a pretty filter on a picture. Grayson could never do much wrong, he was the Golden child.

“You heard what Bruce said, I’m sure.”

“Of course, I did, Grayson. I have ears, don’t I?”

Dick shook his head, “You can lose a bit of the attitude, Dami.” A pause, “No one’s gonna see you as weak if you don’t have a sassy comeback for everything. I was wondering if you’d be up for some ice cream later, we can even go to the dog park. I know how much you like dogs.”

Damian blinked at him, “Tt, I wouldn’t mind it. But only if we go to the ice cream shop by Father’s favorite cinema, that one has the best treats.”

“Deal.”

And that was that. Dick stood up, putting the chair back where it had come from before walking to the stairs, making sure to pat Damian on the shoulder on the way out.

Damian frowned at Dick’s seemingly lingering presence in the room, walking over to the computer and sitting at the main chair. On screen, it showed a seemingly empty map of Gotham, the outlines of buildings being separated with thin white lines. He knew he couldn’t go out without Father or someone accompanying him to babysit. It was frustrating at times, it made him think that no one thought he could take care of himself. After a few minutes of staring at the screen blankly, he hopped out of the chair and moved over to the stairs, walking upstairs.

* * *

Bruce came back not many hours past twelve in the morning. The manor was nearly silent, all the lights were turned off and there was a good chance everyone was in their rooms, asleep. After he hung up his Batsuit, he changed into comfortable clothes and sauntered up the stairs.

On the second floor of the manor, Bruce moved through the hallway, going to his own quarters, stopping only when he heard the slightest murmur of a TV coming from Dick’s room. Some blue light was shining from under the door, occasionally flashing to some other color, leading Bruce to approach the door and open it as silently as he could.

Inside of the bedroom, the TV was playing a simple vet show, and on the bed was a sleeping Dick. He looked completely at peace, not a care in the world lingered on his features, however his hair was an absolute mess, tangled in several places and even sticking up in some others while still maintaining a silky look. Beside him, was surprisingly Damian. He was definitely awake, because he was staring directly at him. The boy wore pajamas, and was sat up in the bed, covered in pillows and blankets.

“It is not what it looks like, Father.” He whispered.

“I think it’s exactly what it looks like.” Bruce walked in, shoving his hands in his pockets with a smirk plastered on his face.

“He would not leave me alone.”

“So, you came to hang out with him? Doesn’t sound much like you, Damian.”

“Tt.”

Dick shifted from his spot, curling up into the pillow his face was smushed into, “Keep it down you guys..” He mumbled, clearly not awake yet still not entirely asleep.

Bruce smiled, “I’ll leave you two now, goodnight.”

“Wait. I’m coming with you.” Damian slipped out of his mini fortress of blankets and pillows to join Bruce as he turned off the tv and walked out of the room.

The two moved into the hallway, where it was considerably colder compared to Dick’s room. Damian glanced up at Bruce before staring ahead into the hallway.

“Go ahead, make fun of me.”

“What?”

“Call me weak. I know you’re thinking it.”

“Damian, that’s not at all what I’m thinking. I was just mentally saving the picture of you watching TV next to your brother.”

That earned him a punch in the side.

“Leave me alone.”

“Fine. Fine. Are you going to head to bed?”

“No. I’m awake now, and I will be for a while.”

“I think I will be too. You know what? I have something to show you. You can come in your pajamas.”

Damian, just a little confused, nodded before following him. Bruce led him downstairs and into the garage. After unlocking his usual vehicle, he beckoned for Damian to follow him inside the car.

“Father, where are we going?”

“You’ll see.”

Bruce drove out of the garage and away from the manor. Instead of heading into the city, they drove away from it, and since it was almost three in the morning, no one was there to slow down traffic. They two headed into the valleys, driving up a hill that overlooked Gotham and parking in the grass.

“Where are we, Father?”

“There’s not really a name for this place, but it’s nice, right?”

Damian simply nodded, taking in his surroundings as they got out. The breeze swept over them gently, causing the twos’ hair to wave and shift out of place. Bruce walked to the trunk and popped it open, taking out two coats, closing the car door before folding the clothing over his arm and walking to the edge of the hill.

“Why are we here?” Damian walked to him, taking his coat after Bruce offered it before putting it on.

“It’s a change in scenery.” Bruce scanned the horizon, “It’s one of the more peaceful parts of Gotham. I took Jason here right after I met him. I bought us some burgers from a diner, and we ate on the Batmobile.”

“Tt. You think this will make us better partners?”

Bruce ignored his question, instead, he put on his coat, went to the car and hopped on the trunk. The man sat still for a second, thinking, ponder before he scooted to the side and patted on the empty space, beckoning Damian to come and join him.

The boy groaned, yet reluctantly dragged himself over, lifting himself up and on the trunk. When they weren’t speaking, the ambient sounds of crickets and wind rustling filled the void. They sat together for maybe ten minutes before Bruce pointed up at the sky.

“Shooting star. Make a wish.”

“I wish for you to leave me be.”

“It won’t come true if you tell someone.”

“Bummer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Sorry for the delay,I was focused on getting my Halloween fic out on Halloween, and it's show week in my Theatre Troupe! I hope you liked this chapter, I don't usually write Damian so I feel iffy about how I did it, but overall I'm pretty proud of this chapter! I also wanted to ask, would you like to see me post more one shots or series? I have so many ideas for fics but I have to actually organize them to start writing them.


	12. Death Might Bring Us Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the lack of updates! Theatre really has me stressed and I have AP homework to juggle on top of that! I'm also sorry for the lack of Bruce in this chapter. I know I have been leaning away from him, despite him being in the title, but I assure you that the next chapter will focus on him (and something very very sad, you can guess if you'd like). Thank you for your patience!

“It’s fucked up now, isn’t it? ‘Batman will live on forever, but Bruce Wayne won’t.’ I remember you saying it, but I never thought I’d have to live with it, you know?..God, I just- I don’t know what to do anymore… I need your help.”

Dick’s breath stuttered for a second, leaving him to think momentarily before he hung up. Wiping a hand over his face, he dropped his phone onto his desk, picked up his drink and gulped it down.

“God, I’m a mess.”

It had only been three months since Gotham’s Bruce Wayne died. Dick left Blüdhaven to begrudgingly take on the cowl after others had tried to. Jason even tried to claim the title for himself before Dick arrived. He had to battle tooth and nail for the cowl, and yes, he should be proud of it, proud to wear the suit, proud to protect the city, but he couldn’t help but feel a stab in his heart every time he saw the suit. He had to be Batman and mourn for his father at the same time, as well as raise his brother, who was still only a young teenager.

He looked up and out the window of his bedroom, wiping any tears he had shed off his cheeks. Bruce’s contact information was still displayed on the phone. A gray-blue background framed a picture of his dad smiling, having not realizing there was a phone pointing at him.

Through his tears, Dick smiled at the icon, reminiscing about that day where he, Tim and Jason came over to hang out with the family. All six of them (yes, including Alfred.) played Mario Cart. Dick won the first round, Bruce the second and once Alfred got the hang of it, he kicked their asses the next three. While Tim, Jason and Damian were playfully wrestling on the carpeted floor, Bruce watched fondly, and that’s where Dick whipped out his phone and silently snatched a candid.

The sudden roar of thunder outside his window snapped him back to reality. Standing up, Dick drank whatever was left in his cup before setting it back down for him to clean up later. He walked over to the window and pushed the curtains further out, crossing his arms and sighing at the view.

There was almost never a week where it didn’t rain in Gotham, and today was no exception. A haze had set around the gloomy Wayne manor, blocking out the horizon you’d normally be able to see from his window. Dick stood there for a few seconds before turning to his closet, grabbing a coat and walking out of the room.

He tried to leave through the front door as quietly as possible. Dick wasn’t in the mood to converse or be a part of society at the moment, so he just wouldn’t. It was possible for him to keep his mouth closed for more than a minute. Even before Bruce’s death, he had times where he’d just take a step back and shut himself away from social life for a little while.

“Grayson?”

Turning around, he saw Damian standing by the stairs. He had on a worn down red hoodie (that was most likely Jason’s at one point) and blue-gray jeans.

“Yes, Dami?”

“Where are you going?”

“Out. I need some air.”

“May I join you?”

“I- I don’t. I mean.” He sighed, “Sure. I don’t see why not.”

Damian perked up from where he stood and skipped over, already heading out.

“Hold on.” Dick pulled him back by his hood, “Go grab a coat, it’s cold outside.”

“Tt. Fine.”

Dick watched as Damian rushed up the stairs, disappearing for a minute or two before dashing back down with a dark gray coat Bruce had bought him for Christmas the year before. Dick reached for an umbrella by the door and carried it out the door, waiting for Damian to walk through before gently closing the main entrance.

Cold air blasted in his face, the smell of fresh rain hitting him just as quickly as he opened up his umbrella. This was the type of weather he liked. Sure, he didn’t like to work in rain, but when it’s cold at night, and Dick’s on a mission, he can’t help but thank Mother Nature because wearing Kevlar in warm, humid and dark environments absolutely sucked.

The pitter-patter of rain did not stop at all as Dick and Damian walked onto the lawn, carefully treading on growing grass.

“Why did you come out here, Grayson?” The boy looked up, green eyes filled with question and suspicion, but not unease.

“I needed some fresh air. It was getting a little stuffy in my room.”

“Ah.” Damian looked ahead, scanning over the yard, “Couldn’t that have waited until it wasn’t raining?”

“Not this time.” Dick shook his head, wrapping his arm around Damian and pulling him close, so he could hide under his umbrella as well. The kid didn’t object to the gesture but let out a slightly irritated huff.

They stood out in the rain for a while, saying nothing out loud because there was no need to. Damian understood Dick’s lack of words and Dick understood his. It was something they started to develop and pick up on during the months leading up to Bruce’s death, and especially during the first few days following it.

“It will be okay, Grayson.”

Dick looked down at him. Damian was watching him intently, his eyes lacking the usual sharp edge to them. He almost let go the umbrella, the few raindrops falling down his collar reminding him that it was in fact raining, and that he’d rather not be wet right now.

“Huh?”

“Tt. You’re worried. Someone without eyes could see it in your face. You’re always worried about something. I know how much Father meant to you. It’s been difficult to say the least. However, we’ll be okay without him. If there is anything useful that has come out of Todd’s mouth, it’s that we’ll always win in the end.”

At a complete loss for words, Dick simply nodded, crouching down to his little brother’s height. He sighed before using his free hand to pull Damian into a tight hug. He tried to ignore the fact that his eyes were watering up once more and tried to focus on the sound of rain, his own heartbeat and the faint thunder above.

Once Damian’s arms snaked back around him, he let his tears fall.

“I know. I know we’re going to be okay.”

* * *

It’s been a whole year since Bruce Wayne had _died_. After Tim left on his search for him, it was just Dick, Damian and Alfred. Batman and Robin had gotten used to working as a pair, adapting each other’s habits and fighting styles even. They became partners on a level Bruce could never achieve, brothers in and out of the field. They were comfortable with completely relying on one another now, something that, truth be told, didn’t happen before their father’s death.

Some would say they’ve finally accepted Bruce Wayne’s death.

Dick still kept his contact information, made sure his original uniform remained untouched and left the comms open just in case, though it was Tim that convinced him to do so.

Jason swung around on a regular basis now. Damian was convinced he was checking in on Dick though, Dick thought of it as Jason missing Alfred’s cooking; and even with Tim roaming all over the world, he still gave routine check ins every two weeks or so.

It was a Thursday night when Tim called in for a report. Dick walked down to the cave and slid into the chair to check in on the scanners and safehouses they had pinpointed onto the map that was lit up on screen. It had been a quiet day so far, Dick had gone out for some interviews that had been on his schedule for the past few weeks and Damian was doing homework in his room after he returned from school.

Once he saw Tim was calling, a smile spread across Dick’s face. He answered it after the second ring, waiting for his little brother’s face to take up a third of the screen. Tim did eventually appear on the computer, but it wasn’t how Dick imagined it would be. Tim’s eyes are bruised, most likely from a lack of sleep, his cheeks were on the verge of hollowed out and lips were chapped and red, as if he had been biting them nervously. It was clearly dark outside, because his brother’s face was lit up by a nearby desk lamp. Needless to say, Tim wasn’t looking so good at the moment.

“Hey, Tim. You okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay. These last few days have been pretty rough.”

“I can see that. Are you still searching?”

“Yes. I’m in Venice now. I’m getting close, Dick. I know it.”

“Why don’t you come back home for a bit Tim? It hasn’t been the same since you left.”

“I can’t right now. Dick, I was on the tip of the iceberg, and now I’m chiseling my way down to the bottom. Give me some more time.”

“That analogy barely made any sense. I’m just worried you’ll overwork yourself to death trying to find Bruce.” He took in a breath, determining what to say next, “I miss him as much as you do, but he’s dead, Tim. As much as I want him back too, we can’t-“

“You don’t understand! He is alive Dick! I know it. You have to trust me. Please.”

“I do trust you Tim, I just want you to take care of yourself.” He sighed, rubbing his temples. Sometimes, he didn’t know how Bruce put up with all of them for the past years.

“I will… Just trust me. I’ll be home soon, with Bruce. Listen, I got to go.”

“Okay. Goodnight Tim, get some sleep, I’ll call you again soon.”

“G’night Dick, say Hi to Alfred for me.”

“Will do, bye.”

Tim hung up before he could, the screen shifting back to normal as Dick huffed and fell back into the chair. He created a mental ‘to-do’ list, which included things such as: Checking in on Tim more, watering his houseplant and fighting the urge to hit his head against the wall in frustration. At least a minute of hard thinking passed by before he heard footsteps coming down from the stairs.

“Hey Damian. What do you need?”

“Did Drake call?”

“Yeah.” Dick turned the chair to look over at him. Damian walked over to the desk and hopped up to sit down on it. The boy glanced around the cave before returning his gaze back to Dick.

“What did he have to say?”

“He thinks he’s getting close to finding Bruce. I’m worried, he didn’t look like he was doing too hot.”

“When does Drake ever look well. “

“Dami.”

“Richard.”

He sighed, leaning on his arm and shutting his eyes as he rubbed his temples again. _God, he was going to have gray hairs before he was thirty._

“Did you do all your homework?”

“Yes. Who do you think I am? Todd?”

“You never even knew him as a high-school stu- You know what? Never mind.” Dick got up and walked over to his suit, “Go tell Alfred we’re heading out for the night, and then get suited up.”

Damian let out a stubborn groan before pushing himself off the desk and sauntering over to the stairs with his hands shoved in his pockets.

After Damian left for the manor, Dick donned on his own bat suit and stared at himself in the mirror. It felt unnatural still, to see himself in the suit he always tried to avoid when he was younger. His bat suit, unlike Bruce’s, was mostly composed of a mixture between spandex and Kevlar for both safety and mobility. His gauntlets were lighter than Bruce’s, and most was the armor was thinner as well. Though the suits are very different material wise, they basically looked the same. Both were mainly black with gray and even little blue accents around the chest. With the cowl on, he looked almost exactly like Bruce used to in the suit, minus some differences, like how Dick’s skin was a few shades darker than his adoptive father’s. and how his jaw looked more chiseled, while his chin lacked Bruce’s cleft.

He tried to never smile much in the suit, and if he did, it would only be for a second. He wasn’t Nightwing anymore, he had more people relying on him now, he had to take his new gig seriously. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t occasionally crack a joke with Damian while they staked out a place, because he still did that very often, it meant that he would try and restrain himself from teasing villains or showing off too much. It could potentially give away that the original Batman was no longer under the cowl.

As Batman, everyone was watching and judging his actions. Dick still didn’t know how to feel about that. He was so used to being protected and shielded by the night. Sure, Nightwing was a popular figure in Blüdhaven, however, Nightwing was not one of the founding members of the JLA, and he was sure no one told their kids stories about him.

He stood there for a little while before the same footsteps from earlier ran down the stairs, past him and to Robin’s costume. Damian disappeared to get dressed in his main tunic and cargo pants, leaving the room quiet once more. Dick glanced around the cave, trying to keep his brain occupied.

After maybe five minutes, Damian entered the cave once more, his utility belt, cape and boots in hand. He gave Dick a glance, “Do you think we’ll be busy tonight?”

“Knowing Gotham, we’ll definitely find something to do.” Dick walked over to Damian as the boy clipped on his cape.

“Tt. Who do you think it’ll be tonight?”

“We haven’t seen Riddler in a while. Or Penguin-“

“That could be seen as a good thing, maybe they finally went off and di-“

“Or, it could be a bad thing. You never know what they’re thinking and planning, you have to stay-“

“Three steps ahead of the enemy, I know _that_ much, Grayson.”

“It seems like you do. Come on, we can’t keep the city waiting.” Dick gestured to the Batmobile, seeing that Damian tied his shoelaces in record time. The two walked over and got into their respective sides with ease. Robin huddled up in his corner, pulling his hood on as he stared out the window.

As the Batmobile backed out, Alfred entered the cave and waved goodbye at the two. Dick smiled and waved back before the butler completely disappeared from sight.

For once, it felt like the beginning of a good night, and this would be the first time they weren’t focused on mourning the death of Bruce Wayne as they set out on a patrol, instead, they were focused on keeping his memory and legacy alive.

And that’s what Batman would want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! I honestly kept rewriting parts over and over again, but I'm happy with this for now! If you have any requests for one shots or future chapters, let me know!


	13. Return

The fall in Gotham was always the same, when the leaves fell, disregarded by their former branches and left to drift to the roads, only to be swept up by the wind and carried through the streets. The skies during autumn were always clouded and gray, lacking any color that was shown in the summer or in the spring. The greenery turned to orange, yellow and red, and the normal civilian clothing when from coats and scarves to sweaters, jackets, boots and usually a fuzzy hat. During this time, no one wanted to work or go outside, it was the perfect weather to snuggle up in a blanket and start watching Hallmark movies.

Despite the sulky weather, it was almost the perfect atmosphere for Batman and Robin. The nights were cool, leaving the hollow buildings dry and chilly. It was finally comfortable to wear their heavy suits, and on the nights that happened to more cold than the others, they didn’t mind adding more layers onto their costumes.

The Wayne manor, even with a heater, always had a chill to the air. It wouldn’t be completely out of the norm to see Dick Grayson sitting on the couch, completely wrapped up in one of his blankets he had brought downstairs. Alfred always seemed to make hot meals during the fall, like soup, or Tim’s favorite, roast chicken and mashed potatoes. Whether it was to boost moral or to coax Dick out of his blanket, no one will ever know.

Today was a late windy Thursday afternoon, the air was crisp, and it had just finished raining about an hour ago. Damian had finished school for the day, and Dick was working on a report from last week. Alfred busied himself with dusting the house for the afternoon, going on his normal routine. First, he’d sweep the entryway and the corridors, then dust around before heading upstairs to the individual rooms. The two boys remained out of the way, knowing better than slowing the elder down.

Damian slipped down the stairs to the cave, with his hands deep in his pockets. He watched Dick type for a second before approaching him, bored out of his mind. Upon hearing his younger brother, Dick glanced over and gave him a small smile, inviting him to sit in a chair he had brought down to the cave a while ago, and just never put back upstairs.

“Are you almost done?” Damian asked, hopping on the chair and looking up to the screen.

Dick nodded, going back to typing at a efficient pace, “I just have to finish up some small details, and I’m free. It should only take maybe a few more minutes.”

“Tt. I suppose I’ll stay around. Are we going to spar before we leave for patrol?”

Dick checked the time on his watch. It was one given to him by Bruce on his 20th birthday. It wasn’t anything too special. The majority of it was a matte black, yet the hands were a light silver. Despite its almost dull appearance, Dick liked it, just as he liked any gift Bruce gave to him. He used to only wear it when he’d go to galas or out of town. However, after his father’s recent death, it became normal for him to regularly check the watch and rub off whatever dirt was on it.

“We have time, let me just finish this up.”

Damian nodded, getting off the chair to walk around the cave. So much had changed in one little year, some wouldn’t be able to recognize it, despite it being the only Batcave in Gotham. For example, more suits were displayed instead of being hung on the usual racks. Some of these suits were Damian’s, some were Dick’s, but they were mostly Bruce’s. Dust collected in the crevices of the suits, places where a feather duster couldn’t reach all the way inside of.

The constant feel of emptiness in the cave remained unchanged, even after years and years. Despite how many things took up the space, it still felt lacking.

Dick’s typing kept the room from being completely silent, the slight pitter-patter of the keys echoing throughout the cave. To keep himself busy, Damian strolled up and down the area, glancing around the rooms and cabinets to see if something was out of place, or slightly interesting.

It took a few more minutes before either of them spoke again.

“Alright. I should be done.” Dick entered in some last few keys before uploading it to the database.

“Tt. Finally. Let’s go.” Damian basically skipped to the steps, waiting for his brother to scoot off his chair and walk over to him.

“Excited, aren’t you?” Dick shook his head and chuckled, looking down at Damian as they both moved up the staircase.

Once they made it upstairs to the training room, Dick lifted up his shirt and discarded it on the floor, leaving him in a tank top and shorts as he stretched out briefly. Across the room, Damian remained in his normal attire, except he took off his boots. If they had planned for a lengthy session, then they’d both be in training attire, but as of now, this would have to do.

Once they set up the mats and such, Damian and Dick stood in front of each other.

“Are you ready?” Dick asked.

“Are you?”

Dick nodded with a smirk, waiting for the first hit. Damian swung with his left fist, aiming for his side. However, before he could successfully hit his older brother, Dick moved backwards and ducked. He moved into a squat and launched himself at Damian.

The two rolled onto the floor, with Damian having to kick himself away and Dick trying to grab him by the legs.

“Hey! This isn’t proper technique!”

“No one’s going to care if it’s technique or not!” Dick exclaimed as he hopped up onto his legs with ease. Damian grunted as he swept his leg under Dick, sending him right back down to the floor.

He was able to pin Dick’s hands down for a second before his brother decided to roll over. With some awkward moving, he punched Dick, trying not to hit him terribly hard, but enough for him to be able to escape out from under him.

Dick moved back, waiting for Damian to make the next move for a few seconds before he ran out of patience. He jumped over Damian and landed in a crouch, wrapping his arms around his brother’s body.

They continued back and forth until they both settled on a tie, deciding that they should conserve their energy for their patrol later on tonight.

Dick grabbed a small towel out of the cabinet, tossing one to Damian as he dabbed his face and neck with the cloth. Damian nodded a thanks before wiping the sweat off his face as well. It took a little over five minutes for them to pack up their equipment, and to make sure the room was left as clean as it was before.

“Go get cleaned up, we’ll go out patrol after dinner.” Dick walked right next to Damian, smiling as he messed with his brother’s hair, “Good job today.”

Damian glanced up at him, contemplating whether he was trying to tease him or not before letting the corners of his mouth twitch in the slightest trace of a smile.

“Thank you.”

* * *

In the end, they didn’t even get to finish dinner before they had to race down to the cave, get suited up, and rush out to the streets.

Gotham had suffered two devastating bomb attacks by the time they arrived in the heart of the city.

Both done by the Joker himself. _Great_, Dick thought. There’s never a great day to deal with the Joker, but of all days, Dick wished to himself that it wouldn’t be today. After all, it had been good thus far.

With Robin by his side, Batman hopped out of the Batmobile and rushed out of the alley they had parked in. From where they stood, they could already spot smoke and flames rising from the destroyed buildings.

“Robin, find the survivors, get them to safety. I’ll signal Red Hood and-“

_Tim_. He was just about to say it before he remembered that his brother was across the globe, still adamant about continuing his search for Bruce.

“Just go. I’ll catch up.”

Robin looked up at him, and there was no doubt that the boy was scanning his face attentively before nodding, using his grapple to swing away.

Batman reached down into one of the pouches of his utility belt. Pressing a few buttons, he was able to signal a distress signal to allies in a ten-mile radius. It should reach Jason, or at least, _someone_. Last time Dick had seen the Red Hood was in crime alley, but that was a few days ago. At this point, he never knew where his family was, and he hated it.

Getting a running start, he aimed his grappling gun up to the same building Robin had propelled himself to and shot out a line. With little effort, he was able to swing up and into the air, like a bird slicing through the wind. The strength of the grapple combined with his and his suit’s light weight allowed him to easily maneuver around, with gravity being his only enemy.

If it weren’t for the murderous clown destroying his city, he’d enjoy this moment.

Once he reached a high point, he looked down and accessed the situation. Smoke was clouding up the sky, emerging from two skyscrapers that had been in Gotham for as long as Dick has lived here. If he looked close enough, he could see Damian guiding citizens out of the fire and into the streets.

“Tick-Tock-Tick-Tock!” He heard a voice boom from behind him.

Whirling around, his eyes scanned the horizon for any cause for the sound. Eventually, he saw a blimp peeking out from behind a gargantuan building. It was purple and green, minus the red target patterns on the tip and on the fins.

_Bingo_.

Swinging through the air, he made his way over to the blimp, prepared for anything that the psychotic clown could possibly throw at him.

Well, almost anything.

* * *

Robin dodged falling debris as quick as he could, trying to maneuver through the tight spaces of a small collapsed building. The air was thick with ash and soot, which came from the fires that the explosives had started off. He had just finished clearing out all the civilians that had been trapped by the destruction, but now he was going to check for the last time that everyone had gotten out.

Currently, he was slipping through fallen chunks of the floor from the level above, using his hood and cape to filter through the smoke and to create some breathable air.

The last thing he was expecting was a piece of burning wood to fall on top of him.

The heat seared straight throw the hood of his cloak and onto his head, sending him falling to the floor. Robin struggled to get up, but now he was stuck between three awkward pieces of rubble.

“Batman. Come in.” He called over the comms. With no response coming in, he tried again, “Batman.”

Again, nothing. He was on his own from the time being.

He accessed the situation. His foot was lodged under a few rocks, the air surrounding him was clouded with embers. In conclusion, he had maybe two minutes before the smoke started to impair him.

He tried to dig himself out of the fragments of stone but ended up scrapping his gloves against the rock. Robin hated the feeling of being trapped, he felt vulnerable because he could basically do nothing while pinned down in the burning building. As his heart started to race, he tried to keep his mind on track. If his body began to panic, the least he could do was make sure he was clear minded.

As it turns out, he was so in thought, that he didn’t even hear someone entering the building. It was only when a hand reached out to help him that he realized that the person came to his aid. He glanced up, and almost couldn’t believe it. Well, actually, he _could_ believe it.

“Come on, demon brat. We have to get out of here!”

Staring back at him was none other than the Red Hood himself. His helmet reflected the light from the oncoming fire, he had some scorch marks on his jacket, but other than that, he appeared as if he just arrived at the scene.

Damian latched onto him, despite his slight resentment for Todd, he would rather stick with him, than hang out in a burning building. The Red Hood held him with one arm and dug his leg out with the other. Once his leg was freed, he didn’t let his grip on Todd falter, if anything, Todd was the one to make sure his hold on Damian was strong. The Hood pressed Robin’s head closer to his shoulder as he ducked through a gap and escaped the collapsing building. For the first time in a while, Damian almost didn’t have the thought of punching Todd in the gut.

They didn’t stop there either, The Red Hood got out his grappling gun and swung away, perching up onto a safer, much more stable building. Hood let him down but gave him a once over to see if he had been harmed.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes. I am fine.” He paused, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it, kid. Where’s Batman.”

“I don’t know. I tried to call him over the comms, but no response.”

Jason sighed, pacing around and shaking his head, “Dumbass.” He tapped something on his helmet, “Agent A, can you hear me?”

Robin flicked through the channels on his comms in time to hear the elderly butler answer Hood’s call.

“Yes, I am here. What do you need, Red Hood?”

“Track down Batman, please.”

“Hm. On it.”

Over the comms, typing was audile, and soon, a very quiet pinging noise sounded from Alfred’s side of the call.

“He is moving through the main streets. His speed suggests he’s in a vehicle of some sort, but the Batmobile and your motorcycle remain in the same position, Red Hood.”

“Thanks. We’ll find him.”

“Good luck sirs.”

Hood nodded before looking over the ledge, scanning over the city. Robin went to the opposite side and looked out from here. Below, sirens echoed through the streets, people screamed, and dogs barked.

“Robin, look at this.”

Damian turned around and walked over to Todd, watching as he pointed to a giant, purple and green striped blimp. On one side, a giant screen lit up any building it was face towards. It displayed a cartoon version of the Joker’s face, and as it bobbed up and down, black spirals swirled out in the background with text on the bottom that said, “We’ll be right back!”

“I’ll call Arsenal. He’ll make sure everyone’s safe while we go and save jackass.”

Damian looked up and nodded, “I’m going in.” He said before shooting his line out with his grapple, swinging away from the rooftop and towards the blimp.

Hood watched the kid fly off, keeping an eye on him as he signaled Roy on one of his gadgets. The redhead had crafted little devices that would be able to signal one another after they had gotten separated during an excruciatingly long investigation. With a soft press on the button, the center lit up and flashed a few times. With that done, he shoved the small gadget into a pocket on his utility belt.

Finally, he got out his grappling gun once more and shot it towards the building the blimp was close to.

Dick had to be okay, he had faced the Joker many times, knew moves that even Bruce Wayne hadn’t, he would be fine. Too bad his gut tried to tell him otherwise.

* * *

Breathing isn’t something you normally think about. It comes naturally, without acknowledgement.

At least, that’s the case if your lungs weren’t filling up with water.

Dick didn’t even know where he was at the moment. It was freezing, cold enough to the point where he would twitch severely in the water unwillingly. Whenever he opened his eyes, they burned, as if salt was being poured all over his face. Through his eyelids, however, he could see a light source coming from under him.

Every now and then, arms would pull him up, out of the cold water. His lungs burned as they were finally able to take in air. Yet it was never long enough to fully catch his breath.

Truth be told, he had never really been in this situation before. Sure, he had been chained underwater, but those times, he was able to see, and from that, he could hatch an escape plan.

A part of him wished that he had a helmet like Jason’s. That would be very useful at the moment.

Through the water, he could hear a very distinguishable muffled laughter.

So, the Joker got him, _great_. The last clear thing he remembers would be walking into the electric room of the blimp, but then something pinched him in the back of the neck, and now he was here.

Stuck in a water tank.

Just as he was about to surge forward, ready to break his way through glass, an electric current rippled through the water, and then through his suit, then through him. He choked on whatever air he had left in his lungs, coughing out the rest.

Containing his scream, he bit his lip as his body trembled through the aftershock.

Dick tried to breathe in but ended up breathing water instead. Now he was really in trouble. If someone didn’t get him out soon, he’d pass out, and then drown.

Just as he was about to start panicking, there was another shock. Then another, and then another.

* * *

The Red Hood and Robin made their way through several of the Joker’s henchmen, finally making it to the main room. The walls and floor were metal, but both were hideously decorated with tacky photos and rugs.

The main feature, however, was a glass tank, and inside, was Dick. Thank god his cowl was left on, but the suit looked like it was doing better than him at the moment. He looked almost frozen in the water, and if it weren’t for his small twitches, Jason would guess Dick was dead. Every now and then, when he moved, a cloud of blood oozed out into the water, coming from his head and side. Setting his hatred for Joker aside, he set his priorities onto his brother, who could or could not be dying at the moment.

“Do you like the new décor? Our brand new piece really adds to the place.” The Joker hopped down and walked in front of the tank, “The water is almost below zero, and when we really want to liven up the place, we press this!”

Joker hit a button on the remote he held in his hand. Within a fraction of a second, Dick went from lifeless to screaming in agony.

“Stop that!!” Jason shouted. Damian tensed up but didn’t let his guard down at all.

“It’s music to my ears!” The clown turned towards the tank and smiled sadistically.

In the blink of an eye, Damian went from by his side, to choking Joker out with a pipe. Trusting that Damian could hold his own for a few more seconds, he beelined to the tank and shot the glass. It took several attempts, but eventually, he was able to break through the barrier between him and Batman.

The water busted from out of the glass, and Dick followed. Jason quickly scooped him up in his arms, noting how he felt like he had been sitting in an icebox for days. To try to warm him up, he covered his brother up with his leather jacket and rubbed his hands. Blood slowly trickled down from Dick’s side onto Jason’s suit and hands. The cold would slow the bleeding for now, but they’d still have to get him stabilized as soon as possible.

Meanwhile, Damian was dodging some of the Joker’s traps. He hopped over the mini bear traps the clown laid down, attempting to get closer to him.

Out of nowhere, an explosion erupted out from the side of the blimp. Jason clutched onto Dick, picking him up bridal style as he raced over to Damian.

“We have to get out of here!”

Damian pulled away from him, “But Joker is getting away!”

“He could be dying!” Jason glanced down at Dick, “We’re going!”

This time, Damian allowed Jason to drag him away. With Dick curled up securely in one arm, he grappled away with the other. He had used Dick’s suit in order to ping the Batmobile over to their location, which would be able to drive itself over within minutes.

Once they got to the vehicle, Jason set Dick in the backseat with Damian, who started to peel off his soaking wet suit. Jason turned up the heater in the car as he floored the gas pedal. Drifting through the back alleys of Gotham, Jason took off his helmet so he could properly see and raced towards the Wayne Manor.

As soon as he pulled in the Batcave, he turned off the car and helped Damian carry Dick out. He was now only in his undershirt and shorts, which were still wet, but at least he wasn’t covered in soaked Kevlar anymore.

Alfred rushed over as soon as Dick was on an operating table. Jason fetched towels while Damian grabbed the first aid kit and brought them over. Under the fluorescent lights, Jason could properly access Dick’s condition. His brother’s skin was pale, and almost grayish, his lips were on the verge of being blue and his eyes were swollen, as well as red. They needed to warm him up immediately and then suture up the cut in his side afterwards.

While Alfred dried off Dick’s face and hair, Jason replaced Dick’s wet clothing with some dry spares, and Damian laid heat packs over his torso. With all three of them working to save his life, it still took a whole hour until Dick’s vitals were stable enough. After they covered the unconscious man in blankets, Jason took a needle and thread and looked at Dick’s cut.

Lucky for him, it was deeper than it was wide, so it wouldn’t be that hard to suture up. Alfred and Damian gave him space as they cleaned up the area, putting away the unnecessary heat packs and clothes. The cut wasn’t bleeding much anymore, a constant flow of blood trickling down his side was slow enough that Jason could suture the wound without having to wipe off blood every other stitch.

Not to toot his own horn, but he was pretty good at suturing, and sewing in general. On a good day, he felt like he could be a worthy opponent to Alfred’s stitching. Though, out of all four brothers, Jason knew he was most likely the best at taking care of his own wounds. He cleaned the area with rubbing alcohol before taking a needle and making quick work of the suturing.

Even after an hour and thirty minutes, there was no sign of Dick waking up any time soon. His heartrate was back to normal, so was his blood pressure. His temperature could be better but considering that he had been in temperatures a normal civilian wouldn’t be able to survive, he was doing fairly well.

Giving his brother one last look over, he wiped the hair away from his face and got up from his seat. He glanced over, seeing Damian standing off the side, and gestured over.

“Is Grayson alright?”

“He will be.” Jason nodded, watching as the kid approached him at a slow and steady pace.

“I’m going to kill the Joker.”

“Get in line, little brat. That psycho is mine to kill first.” He huffed, shaking his head. “If Bruce were here, I’m sure he’d consider tearing that fucker a new one.”

“Will you go after the Joker?”

“Oh, definitely. And I have a few plans on what to do when I get him where I want him. But for now, I’m staying. Someone needs to make sure Goldie doesn’t do summersaults with stitches still in his side.”

Damian nodded, staying quiet as he watched Dick’s chest rise and fall.

Suddenly, a call came through on the computer. Jason looked up at the screen and sighed. Tim was calling, at 1am, from _God knows where._

Reluctantly, he walked over and answered it while Damian took his spot by Dick’s side.

“Where’s Dick?”

Tim looked around from on screen. He was in a car of some sort, with streetlights occasionally lighting his face up.

“Had a tough mission tonight. You got me for now.”

Something was up, Jason could practically smell it. When Tim’s face caught the light from the streetlamps, he could see sweat starting to bead up on his forehead. His hair was brushed back, something he rarely did, and he had no problem talking loudly in a car he definitely wasn’t driving.

“How- How bad was it?”

“Could be better. Joker got him for a hot minute and it didn’t look pretty at all. We could’ve used an extra pair of hands, y’know.”

“Is he awake?”

“Won’t be for another few hours. Now cut to the chase. What do you want?”

“I- uh. I’m coming h-“

With little warning, a car engine echoed from the entrance of the cave. Jason glanced at Damian, who was equally as confused. Just as he was about to ask, Tim hung up the call abruptly.

A black Porsche rolled up, with windows opaque with a black tint. Jason walked over to Damian stood in front of him defensively, ready to see who was able to slip in through the security systems.

With how many strange things he has soon in his life, you’d think he’d be ready to see this.

Bruce Wayne himself stepped from out of the car, along with Tim, and scanned around the cave, almost judgingly. A grimace fell over his face as he saw Jason, then Damian, and finally Dick.

“Gotham has gone too long in the darkness. It’s time we go back to what we do best. Batman is back, and this time, we're doing the job right.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus! School has really been kicking me in the ass, but I hope that this extra long chapter will make up for it!


End file.
